Purple Cocaine Prison

Ebra: Thanks ahead of time for 1)not forgetting about this story and 2)reviews.

Warning(s): Violence, Mild Language, Lime and Angst

Disclaimer: NOT MINE, according to the fine print. Chapter title from Coldplay¡¯s ¡°Yellow¡±

PLEASE READ, REVIEW AND ENJOY!

~!@!~

Purple Cocaine Prison
¡°What a thing took done¡±

~!@!~

{Naruto}

It didn¡¯t take me very long to decide to find Sasuke; the question was how I was going to do it. I didn¡¯t have any leads, really, and I wasn¡¯t about to bounce my ideas off Neji. He¡¯s been really cool when talking about Sasuke since we last did, but I¡¯m not sure he¡¯s ready to hear anymore right now, whether Sasuke¡¯s missing or not.

Haku seems to think wherever he is Sasuke¡¯s going to be fine. I¡¯d agree, but really, considering how he can get, Sasuke¡¯s really very good at pretending to be all right even if he¡¯s furious or confused inside. Sasuke may give the illusion of being together, but that¡¯s what¡¯s dangerous to begin with. He finds a weakness and he¡¯ll try to kill it off by freezing up a little more inside.

I have to at least see for myself that he¡¯s fine, and I use the word ¡®fine¡¯ in the loosest possible way.

I spend my first Tuesday in the apartment poring over our phonebook. It shouldn¡¯t have been all that surprising but there are more then two or three private schools around, and I haven¡¯t got any clues as to where to start. If anything, I should just quit with this while I¡¯m ahead.

I shower and wear Neji¡¯s pajamas, skip breakfast because I¡¯m not up to it, and lie around taking another shot at figuring out the TV remote.

By the time I come to the conclusion that the remote is better left alone, its early afternoon and someone is buzzing from downstairs.

I jump up and sprint to where the intercom is and press the required button. I don¡¯t have to bother checking who it might be since there¡¯s hardly anyone who knows I¡¯m here, besides people I already trust.

I leave the door unlocked and head into the bedroom to change into something less revealing then one of Neji¡¯s size-large-on-me tops.

Our room is probably my favorite thing about this place. The bed is a little bigger then I think we¡¯d need, and the size of the windows in here is a little unnerving, but on the whole, it¡¯s niche-like and private. I rummage in the closet for the nearest decent thing to wear and end up with jeans and my orange swirl t-shirt. I don¡¯t bother with socks, since I don¡¯t know where they are anyway and pull on a pale blue bandana to hide my ridiculously messy hair.

I grin at myself in the mirror hung on the back of the bedroom door and step out into the hall just as the front door is clicking shut.

Rounding the corner, I see Gaara toeing off a pair of lime green and gray high-top converse sneakers. He¡¯s wearing a black headscarf, wrapped to keep his hair off his face, the ends trailing over a shoulder, a bright green t-shirt with Wario running across its hem and gray capris. His socks are bright yellow and his belt is an almost matching shade of brighter orange.

Gaara kinda narrows his eyes at my widening grin; I'm always amazed at Gaara's sense of fashion and the fact that he always looks good in what he actually chooses to wear.

Gaara toes off his second sneaker and eyes me only in passing on the way to the kitchen. I follow, curious. Gaara isn't much for long drawn out convo, but he wouldn't be here, ditching class, unless he had something to tell me.

In the kitchen, I watch Gaara methodically go through my fridge and find one of Neji's yogurt-type drinks. I perch on one of the stools while he puts his cookie monster lunchbox on the counter and patiently takes three pills one after the other, and chugs a medical smelling drink before sipping quietly at the yop afterwards.

I'm not about to rush him, so I start to stare out a window. If anything, these are something I'm not used to: being in a place with two wall-to-wall windows making up half the apartment and being high enough not to need curtains for them.

"Kankuro saw him"

It takes me a minute to turn back to Gaara and understand what he's saying.

Gaara tilts his head and continues, "At his school. It's private"

I stare at him long enough for those tell tale wrinkles between his eyes to appear. Gaara doesn't frown deep enough to match any normal person, but he never bothers much either, because if he's frowning at all, it speaks for itself.

I shake my head to clear the cobwebs, "That was easy"

Gaara seems to think so too, "Ironically"

I grin slowly, "So you're playing detective?"

Gaara regards me from across the table, light green eyes tracing my face, "You're overreacting. No one likes it"

I'm assuming by no one, he means my friends, and when I realize this, my smile falls a little, "I'm not trying to be a pain about this, you know"

Even when I say it, it doesn't feel like I'm explaining myself enough, but Gaara is Gaara, so he only waits for me to elaborate.

Why am I so worried? Anytime I see Sasuke, or even look his way, it means trouble. We fight more then anything and I don't understand his attitude with me. As far as I can see, I've only been trying to tolerate him, even be his friend if he'd let me, but he's always pushing back on me or trying to get a rise out of me for all the wrong reasons. I wouldn't mind the fighting so much if something came from it.

I shrug, finally, undecided, "I'm just worried. I can't really put it any other way..."

Gaara nods; continues, "But its Sasuke"

I grin ruefully, "Yeah, he's an asshole"

Gaara's eyes narrow, "Kankuro is too, but I'm never worried about him"

I laugh at Gaara's surety, "You might think they are assholes, but we both care about our assholes, even if it's just a little. Just because a person can take care of themselves doesn't mean you can't care about them"

Gaara digests this for a minute and tells me, "We don't get along. Temari is mediator always. Why bother?"

I cock my head and try to think and answer as I go, "Well, why do you hang out with me, or worry about me?"

Gaara gives me a look about switching things up on him, but answers nonetheless, "I have formed an attachment"

And I smile, "So you like me, right? Otherwise you wouldn't bother"

Gaara nods, though I can see he's trying to figure out where the hell this is going.

"So", I say, continuing, "Think of it like this: Kankuro is your brother and though you might not be aware of it, you are attached to him and Temari too. So, that attachment is a bond. You look after it by sometimes doing as little as acknowledging the person, so the person on the other end of that bond will do the same for you. The more effort you put into getting along, respectively, the better things are between you. Look at us, I care about you and you care right back, so it works out, doesn't it?"

Gaara's still assessing so it doesn't surprise me when he asks again, "That is the why, but what about the bother?"

I grin, "Are you trying to make life a bigger pain than it already is? Bothering sometimes makes life easier because it's better to have people with you then against you, isn't it?"

Gaara takes on an introspective look, "Hn"

It's ironic about talking to Gaara, but having to explain these more enlightening aspects of my life make me feel better. No one is perfect, but in doing your best; you can make life easier for the people you care about. That's particularly why I don't get Sasuke. What could I possibly give him for him to stop being the way he is with me? I never really believed him liking me, not the way Neji does, in the first place, so that's not something I think about, but I am still confused about how dangerous he gets when we argue about it.

I look across the table at Gaara and notice how much more tired he looks. I'm not stupid enough not to associate his new medication with his drowsiness. They are trying to get him to sleep a few hours at a time, but Gaara isn't as used to sleeping as anyone might think.

I stand and walk around the island, "C¡¯mere"

Gaara settles his eyes on me heavily and I smile at him, reaching out and taking his hand. I tug him off the stool and he follows me, not yet asleep but getting there fast.

I curl up with him on the couch and wait. Gaara may hate me for it, but talking to him when he's like this guarantees you can ask him just about anything without him incinerating you with the jade laser beam eyes.

I grab the throw and cocoon us, "Is Kankuro that bad?"

Gaara glares at me and stubbornly remains silent. I wait only another minute or two before he talks, "He doesn't like me"

I nod, not intending to argue, for the sake of him not falling asleep through it, "Do you know why?"

Gaara's head lolls onto my shoulder, and I watch, fascinated, as his eyes finally close, "My mother died because of me"

I frown. He sounds so sure, "But..."

Gaara opens his eyes long enough to shoot my theory about his glaring to pieces, "No more questions"

It's clear he's no longer in the mood for it and by the time I mumble an apology, he's already asleep.

~!@!~

Haku can make a racket when you least expect it. He's generally good about things, since he stays focused by being organized and methodical, but those rare few times that things are out of his hands? Pandemonium.

Shika seems generally unconcerned and Neji isn't particularly the panicking type, so they are able to fill me in on the situation at school.

Apparently my social worker's name is Iruka. According to Shino, whom I was on the phone with not five minutes ago, Kakashi has taken an interest to said social worker and they've somehow managed to become friends.

Aside from that, all the girls at school are trying to find out where Sasuke has gotten to, though I can't imagine what good it would do them, and our cooking class¡¯s teacher's 'Luncheon' is this week and Gaara's been silently threatening our Cooking class teacher, Mrs. Zen, with absence the day of the occasion.

I miss school for half a week and all hell breaks loose. If that isn't twisted logic, I'm not sure what is.

Gaara, who woke up when Haku marched in, seems perfectly alert sitting tucked into my side watching Haku pace the room through slitted eyes.

Haku stops long enough to tell the room in general, "I don't think that Iruka person is leaving anytime soon"

Shika rolls his eyes, head in hand, "And this is giving you gray hair because...?"

Haku makes it a point not to argue needlessly, he's pretty mature after all, but the catty glare he shoots Shika's way is definitely his equivalent of the four-year-old-sticking-his-tongue-out-at-you face.

Gaara rubs at his forehead, clearly not liking all the noise after such a quiet afternoon with me and tells us, "When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear"

I look at Gaara and I look at Haku's face, and I laugh, because really? Is Haku even capable of swearing?

Shika grins and Haku shuts his mouth; Neji's mouth sort of curls up at the corners.

Gaara shifts away from me, making his way to the kitchen and tells us on his way out: "Humor is the affectionate communication of insight" Then, he's gone around the corner.

"Geez", Shika says, after a minute, grinning now, "¡­let a guy sleep and he gets philosophical on you"

Haku shrugs and sits in Gaara's vacated space, "He's right though. I'm worried about nothing. He¡¯ll never find you if we keep not saying anything. He¡¯ll have to give up sometime"

Shika snorts, "And nothing really worth knowing is taught to you in school anyway, so no worries"

Neji seems to appreciate Shika¡¯s mild sarcasm no matter when it¡¯s being used, so it¡¯s not so unusual to see him amused in the face of Shika¡¯s latest commentary.

I sigh, ¡°Why is everyday with us an episode of The Peanut Gallery?¡±

~!@!~

{Temari}

Despite the fact that I grew up with Kankuro and Gaara¡¯s hostility towards each other, I¡¯ve never seen a cease-fire initiated by Gaara ever happen. Kankuro will temporarily back off when we have to be anywhere, together in close proximity in public, to prevent general violence, but seeing Gaara wave the white flag is kind of fascinating.

Kankuro stares at Gaara, ¡°Say that again?¡±

Gaara¡¯s been looking healthier since he sleeps a few hours at a time more regularly now, but his eyes are as sharp as ever, ¡°Take me to school with you¡±

Kankuro stares over at me, eyes pleading.

I shrug, ¡°Why not?¡±

Gaara nods agreeably.

¡°What the fuck for?¡± Kankuro is clearly panicking at the idea.

Gaara makes a show of looking harmless, ¡°Just curious¡±

Kankuro looks at me again, not so much scared as baffled. Gaara¡¯s been increasingly more civil since making friends, so we¡¯re still learning to take this newer Gaara in stride.

I smile slightly, ¡°What harm could it do? Show him around some¡±

Kankuro wants to argue but there really is no reason to, especially with Gaara promising to behave himself. I¡¯m more curious about why he¡¯d want to go to school with Kankuro at all instead of the shock of him asking to in the first place.

Kankuro pushes back his breakfast and uneasily stands. He stares at me for a minute, frowning, but I just shrug. Refusing is likely to make Gaara mad, which he¡¯s still completely capable of doing, and no one wants that this early in the morning on a Friday.

Kankuro sighs and motions for Gaara to follow him as he leaves the kitchen and grabs his backpack.
Gaara, wearing his Ruby Gloom t-shirt and back jeans, calmly takes another minute to finish his toast and drink the rest of his tea before leaving after Kankuro.

I stare after them, noting the irony of Gaara having eaten all his breakfast for once and Kankuro having eaten none of his own.

I¡¯m sure Gaara isn¡¯t going to give Kankuro a particularly hard time; they are brothers after all.

~!@!~

{Kankuro}

¡°Seat belt¡± I say, unnecessarily.

Gaara, sitting in the passenger seat beside me, mutely does as he¡¯s told.

Maybe I¡¯m overreacting but I¡¯m sort of waiting for him to snap and start a fight with me. Gaara and me, we don¡¯t talk much: I shout and he ignores me. I try to act like his older brother and get threatened with gruesome death. I vote for pizza and he orders sushi. I nag to show I care and get beat up some of the time.
This is fucking weird.

I haven¡¯t got a clue what to say to him, so I turn on the radio. Gaara watches my nervous movements like he¡¯s not actually noticing them or maybe making an effort not to.
He shifts to look out the window instead.

Grateful to at least be able to pretend he¡¯s not watching me out of the corner of his eye, I start driving, mindful of not starting a conversation when I have just about 50 million questions.

With Gaara, it¡¯s a question of what you see is what you get. I¡¯m better off waiting to see what he¡¯s really up to.

~!@!~

I¡¯m not partial to scenery or anything, but my school¡¯s pretty cool. It¡¯s gated and there are a lot of chill places to hang out if you¡¯re not in class or just skipping.

I park and wait for Gaara to step out, ¡°This is it¡±

Gaara glances at me and looks around at the castle-like way the school is built with its lined trees and the cobblestone-style walkways. It¡¯s like a secret society.

Gaara turns and eyes me, ¡°Do you have class?¡±

I stare at him, slowly closing my car door, ¡°Yes. People who attend school usually have class¡±

Gaara¡¯s lips curl faintly at the corners, ¡°¡­¡±

¡°Anyhoo¡±, I say, nervous again, ¡°I¡¯ll give you the extra-short tour¡±

I straighten my tie as I walk and point out the outdoor tennis courts and pool, the library and mess hall building and the general classes¡¯ area. Gaara seems unusually attentive and I realize he¡¯s waiting for something. Casually, I keep naming places: the auto shop, the second gym building, the quad, the main office and nurse¡¯s building-

And Gaara¡¯s eyes zoom in on the building like a search and destroy robot.

Grinning, I stop walking a step behind him: Bingo.

¡°What would you possibly be looking for in the main office?¡±

Gaara seems unperturbed by my question. He merely glances my way before setting off for the building, ¡°Follow and see¡±

Curiosity hopelessly aroused, I follow. The bell for first period sounds, but Gaara and I move against the flow of people, eliciting not a glance from anyone.

At the entrance to the building, Gaara holds the door open for me and I stare at him long enough that he almost gets irritated, but I quickly bypass him and go in.

Once inside, noise from outside seemingly shut off, Gaara and I peer down the sun-shadowed hallway.

¡°Coast is clear, I think¡±

Gaara shrugs as if to say it wouldn¡¯t matter even if it weren¡¯t and we walk leisurely down the hallway, me looking out for people in a position to send me off to class and Gaara for¡­something.

I watch Gaara, fascinated by this person who is both my Gaara and someone elses Gaara. Mine is less then half as calm as this one because mine doesn¡¯t even try to act sane but this new side of him defies explanation. He's almost human. I shudder theatrically and Gaara glances my way briefly.

I look away and return to watching when I'm sure he's not looking anymore. Gaara walks smoothly, unhurried and relaxed in an almost unnerving way; his new slip-on Vans don¡¯t make sound as he moves. It¡¯s like he¡¯s there and he isn¡¯t.

Stopping in front of the office, Gaara slips in and I after him.

Unsurprisingly, it¡¯s empty. This place is only busy during registration and the attendance is done via computer. Nonetheless, anyone might pass by and see us.

¡°We are in here because?¡±

Gaara makes a beeline for the computer on the other side of the high desk and sits down. He stares at the screen for a second and cracks his left and right knuckles before attacking the keyboard.

We are out of there in less then five minutes.

On our way back to the car, Gaara seems awfully satisfied with himself.

In the parking lot, Gaara walks right passed the car.

I can tell he¡¯s got another place to be, but I feel like offering anyway, ¡°Want a ride?¡±

The new Gaara shakes his head and waves once over his shoulder, ¡°Thanks, but you¡¯ll be late for class¡±

Gaara¡¯s never spoken so civilly to me before and standing there digesting this makes me later for class anyway, absently I call after him: ¡°I¡¯m already late¡±

~!@!~

{Naruto}

¡°You did that for me?¡±

Gaara seems wholly unconcerned with my surprise. I guess he doesn¡¯t think making semi-peace with Kankuro just to get me this info is major stuff, which it is, by the way. It isn¡¯t like I would¡¯ve had the presence to not-sneak into the office and print Sasuke¡¯s personal info, class schedule and dorm arrangements.

Grinning, I shake my head at him from across my living room, ¡°Who said you weren¡¯t salvageable?¡±

Gaara¡¯s response is to wander back into my kitchen. He¡¯s is my personal fridge troll.

~!@!~

In the afternoon, Neji¡¯s back from school and semi-cranky. He¡¯s been ¡®summoned¡¯ home for the evening, so I¡¯m going to be on my own.

AGAIN.

Like a little more solitude will drive me any more bat-shit then I already am. I¡¯m in boyfriend-withdrawal, yes, but on the verge of complete insanity, no and I tell Neji this. Repeatedly.

Neji sees through the jabbering and the madness and tells me, clearly aiming to comfort: ¡°It¡¯ll only be a few hours and I¡¯ll bring you a movie¡±

I rebel despite myself and cling to him like a barnacle, preventing the completion of any significant chore in the vicinity. I proceed to bully him into bed and get my fix.

¡°I didn¡¯t know you got pushy¡±, Neji tells me, while I arrange his limbs to my liking.

¡°I didn¡¯t know you¡¯d leave me alone in this mausoleum so many hours at a time¡±, I reply, trying to be serious but not particularly keen on talking. Mouths can do much better things in the presence of each other.

¡°Hm¡±

Done, I lean back and admire my work; I use the hand not holding the end of Neji¡¯s ponytail to push my bandana off my head and through my hair, ¡°Perfect¡±

Neji cracks an eye open and looks at me, then leisurely lets it falls shut, smiling that faint smile I live only to kiss off his face.

I grin dangerously, ¡°Playing dead won't get you anywhere¡±

I wiggle and mossy down till we are eye level and dive: I kiss his eyebrows and eyelids and each cheek and his nose and chin before promptly settling on his mouth.

The way his hands creep up my back gives me the impression I wasn¡¯t the only one experiencing withdrawal.
Neji opens my mouth with his lips and makes himself at home, one hand settling on the place where my head and neck meet. Growing oddly breathless, I make to pull away, but Neji stops me moving back and leans up on an elbow to corner me, fitting his mouth so completely against mine that he steals the air out of my lungs.

I feel heat rising in my cheeks and my hands slowly bunch in the fabric of Neji¡¯s top, but I¡¯m not scared.
An odd lassitude makes the fistfuls I¡¯ve just made in Neji¡¯s shirt go lax and Neji rolls us over, putting a large, warm hand over my slowing heartbeat. When we separate, there¡¯s a thin thread of saliva between us and instead of noticing the semi-grossness of it, it makes me think that Neji was drinking me into himself.

I stare dazedly at him and he smiles, ¡°Way to make a guy¡¯s worries go right out the window¡±

He laughs quietly into my shoulder.

I get to thinking: he likes me well enough, that¡¯s clear, so why haven¡¯t we gotten further? I¡¯m beginning to understand the depth of Neji¡¯s control over himself and notice the fact that he¡¯s always the person that comes out on top, never mind the times I start it, so knowing this, what¡¯ll throw him for a loop?

He¡¯s stopped laughing and those silver-gray eyes are getting reacquainted with mine. As we stare at each other, it occurs to me.

It¡¯s a little extreme, but I¡¯m no boy scout.

Grinning into his face, I nudge him, ¡°Lemme up, I¡¯m gonna show you somethin¡¯¡±

Neji raises an amused eyebrow and rolls off me and into a sitting position.

I sit up and hop off the bed. Standing just far enough that Neji won¡¯t immediately be able to reach out and stop me, I methodically peel off my shirt and chuck my jeans and shorts and I¡¯m standing in my bare skin before I could have had a chance to have second thoughts.

Neji¡¯s mouth drops a little ways open and I smile. I¡¯m not much for presentation but Neji seems frozen solid just the same. Only someone who loves you would be that awed to see you tout nu.

I cautiously make my way back to bed, somehow being able to find humor in Neji¡¯s deer in headlights look and crawl shamelessly into his lap, ¡°So, long time no see, stranger¡±

I am proud to say that my voice is not trembling.

Neji¡¯s hands mould themselves to my shoulder blades and he stares at my bare bits; inch by inch getting the clearest look he¡¯s ever had at my nude body with proper lighting.

As if in slow motion, Neji¡¯s mouth fastens itself to a spot on my neck, sucking deeply in a manner that not only makes me squirm but makes me hot in gauche places and I can¡¯t stop the porn star moan no matter what I do, which clearly pleases Neji.

Brat. It¡¯s his fault I even have a porn star moan¡­

In an effort not to showcase this new vocal ability further, I try to close my legs, forgetting I¡¯d wrapped them unconsciously around Neji¡¯s waist, which, of course, draws attention because Neji¡¯s abdomen is in the way.
Being the genius that he is, he already knows what¡¯s up and wraps a ridiculously soft hand around said up-ness. I don¡¯t need to say that the porn star moan makes a vicious comeback.

Neji¡¯s mouth trails down to a nipple and there is a repeat of the sucking. The only way I am going to stop being angry at my lack of vocal chord control is if I occupy myself.

I reach out blindly, my hand skimming down Neji¡¯s side till I reach his waist. Concentrating the best I can and trying to project that I know what I¡¯m doing, I pop the button on Neji¡¯s jeans and slowly lower the zipper.

Neji pauses and seems to wonder if I dare.

I do dare: boldness, thy middle name is Naruto.

Intently, I bring my second hand up and slip my fingers under the hem of Neji's briefs only to be stopped as I slowly lift them. I struggle slightly.

Neji's hand closes around my wrist and doesn't loosen when I make to continue, so I glance up at him, genuinely surprised, "What? Not allowed?"

Neji's eyes have darkened to a steely gray and his breathing is deep but irregular, "You sure?"

I pause and seriously consider the question before grinning at him, "I'm sure; are you okay with that?"

Neji smiles faintly, despite the situation and slowly releases my wrists and lies back against our pale blue sheets, eyes silently daring me to do what I might.

Slightly apprehensive but unwilling to back down, I take in his relaxed position and decide to go straight for the prize. I fit my small hands around his waist and tug resolutely until his jeans and briefs slide partway down over his hips. I keep my eyes glued to a spot on his right thigh until I'm sure I can look without fainting.
A boy is a boy is a boy, and I KNOW we all have the same equipment, but seeing it, up close and personal, in a state of not-softness has me marveling at it; my self-consciousness now only a lingering niggles at the back of my thoughts.

I don't glance at Neji. The last thing I wanna do is get embarrassed and lose my nerve; and run my thumb over the tip.

Neji jerks and moans really softly but I hardly hear it as fascinated as I am with how soft it is. Who knew?

My whole right hand closes around it of its owl volition and I move my hand over it, gently at first but with a firmer grip when I notice Neji's labored breathing.

Finally daring to look up Neji, I pause in my motions. He doesn't make a sound, his chest heaves up and down with breaths that are more deep than noisy and his eyes are barely slivers of silver peering out at me from under long bangs. He lifts an arm and slowly trails his fingers down the arm of the hand still closed around him and my whole body shivers and is startled back into motion.

Neji exhales softly and visibly fights to keep his eyes open but they slip shut anyway when I start to squeeze on the upstrokes and rub my thumb under the head. It never occurred to me that I'd ever be doing this to anyone other than myself and feel grateful for the trust it must take Neji to let me see him like this.

Still, it doesn't seem enough, so gathering a bit of scattered courage; I cautiously wrap my mouth around the head and slow my hand movements. I am freaking out a little here as this is beyond the well of my admittedly limited experience, but that sound: not quite a moan but louder than a sigh has me drawing a little more into my mouth.

This could get awkward if I keep thinking to myself, so I glance up at Neji again to gauge his reaction instead. The look on his face is bliss, the toe-curling kind and I can't help smiling around my mouthful. As if sensing me looking, Neji struggles (actually struggles!) to open his eyes long enough to give me a look that is part pleading and nearly all affection.

Encouraged, I suck a little harder than I dared to before and find a pace that suits me and my inexperience. I'm not doing an amazing job or anything, so I'm taken completely by surprise when Neji's back arches and a surprising amount of come fills my mouth. I swallow gingerly to stop from gagging messily and sit back, childishly rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand.

Neji's laying there, hair a mess and eyes closed, the most serene expression ever made on his face. He's practically glowing.

"All right?" My voice is surprisingly rough and I blush despite everything.

Neji sits up slowly; dazed eyes locked on mine and reaches for me. I go willingly until I see he means to kiss me and turn my head away in time for his lips to land on my cheek.

He can't kiss me now, I haven't brushed my teeth yet!

"Naruto"

I never thought my name could sound so important; I hesitantly turn to him, eyes downcast and Neji doesn't try to raise my face or talk to me. He dips his head and catches my mouth by surprise, turning it into an open mouth kiss before I can think to stop him and I find myself pressed into the mattress, him between my legs and right up against me by the time he releases me long enough to let me breathe.

Neji seems wide-awake now; drowsiness dissipated in seconds, and is starring at me in a way that shouts 'On-Your-Back-Or-Hands-And-Knees?'.

I gaze at him; caught between wanting to tell him I love him or just dying from embarrassment.

Neji kisses my nose and trails a hand from my hip to the back of my thigh and under a knee, lifting it slightly and settling even closer to me. His lips move to kiss my temple and he starts to rock against me. If I thought he'd be down for the count, I underestimated him. The friction reminds me that I'm still hard, which I'd somehow forgotten about.

The rocking is turning into grinding and again with the porn star moans. I don't bother trying to swallow them since Neji punishes me by nipping my shoulder when I try to. Warmth so hot it makes my skin hum rolls over me in time with our moving hips and air enters my lungs in smaller and smaller amounts because the moan is near constant now.

Neji presses our cheeks together and whispers, near inaudible, "Love you"

As fast as Neji had come, I come faster and if Neji hadn't kissed me then, it would have disturbed the neighbors, soundproof floor and ceiling be damned.

We lie there for a good minute, equally out of breath and grinning at each other. Well, I'm grinning. Neji's upturned mouth and bright eyes are the equivalent of the cat that ate the canary. He does smug in a cute way though.

My bones are water and this very nearly makes up for the fact that this has been the most hectic week of my life.

Except that Neji's cell rings and we both note that it's already half past six.

He's late.

~!@!~

After Neji leaves, as if on cue, Gaara shows up at my door. He's wearing a black, faux-fur trimmed hoodie that zips up the left side and dark brown cargo shorts. A not very conspicuous neon green belt and matching bandana tied around his face banditos-style along with his most sedate pair of black high-top converse sneakers completes his punk-espionage look.

It's barely past eight o'clock; I grin at him.

Gaara, true to form, ignores me and bodily drags me to my bedroom where he introduces himself to the contents of my closet and discovers that I don't have nearly as much black in my closet as he does.

He gives me a baleful look over his right shoulder, my favorite bright orange-swirl tee shirt in hand. I shrug, "Works for me"

Gaara shakes his head in a way that suggests exasperation, "Let's go"

I blink at him, "Where are we going?"

Gaara narrows his eyes at the shirt in his clutches and elaborates, "My house"

I gape at him. He ignores me and eyes my pj bottoms and oversized muscle shirt and repeats: "Get at jacket; we're leaving"

"Yes, Sir" I grab a jacket by the front door and we head out.

Downstairs, Gaara's chauffeur stands patiently by the car, nodding to me briefly as he opens the door for us. Gaara doesn't tell him where we are going, but the guy starts the car and drives like he knows where he should be going anyway.

We hit the underground parking of Gaara's building and he nods briefly to the driver, who remains in the car and ushers me silently to the elevator. The elevator buttons aren't numbered but titled. Gaara pushes the first button marked: É°¤Î.

I know Gaara is Japanese but it sometimes slips my mind, though his physical features and mannerism usually remind me on a sub-conscious level.

When the doors slide open, I'm amazed to see that it opens directly into a brightly lit coatroom. Both the left and right sides are lined with coats, and underneath them, various shoes. A collection of sneakers neatly lined up under and equally assorted bunch of coats and jackets easily identifies the space in the far right corner as Gaara's.

Directly across from us is another door made from what looks like a solid piece of glass. There is a mountain landscape depicted in colored glass and I wonder if it isn't Mt. Fuji. There is no obvious way of getting in, which doesn't concern Gaara who is currently toeing off his sneakers and eyeing me in a way that says I should be doing the same.

As Gaara hangs our jackets, I examine the glass door from closer, tracing my fingers over the bumps and ridges of the colored glass molded over the surface of the larger glass door. This is definitely the most expensive looking door I have ever seen. I finally notice a black box anchored to the wall right next to the door. It has a single red light and a now dead green light.

Gaara approaches and I watch, fascinated, as he waves his wrist by the box and the green light lights up and the door clicks open.

Gaara tugs it open and ushers me inside, the heavy glass door swinging shut by itself behind us.

"How'd you do that?"

Gaara understands that I'm talking about the door and simply grabs my hand and runs it over a bump under the skin of his right wrist. "Electronics", he tells me simply.

Pretty high-tech if you ask me, but even the apartment I share with Neji uses a pass card instead of keys.
Gaara leads me down the hallway, which is beige walls and black carpet and into the kitchen where Temari AND Kankuro, no less, are eating their way through a pizza. They both glance up and you can tell that my standing there in the middle of their kitchen is surprising the hell outta the both of them.

Temari recovers fastest and reaches for the remote to mute their in-kitchen TV, "I thought you said you had something to do?"

I commend her on stammering only very slightly.

Gaara shrugs at her, "Forgot something"

Kankuro can't stop glancing from me to Gaara and back, "And he's...?"

"A friend" Gaara finishes as though the question is fully rhetorical.

Temari and Kankuro exchange a look that neither Gaara nor I miss.

Grinning at the hilarity of the situation, I attempt introduce myself, "I'm Naruto and-"

"We'll be gone soon" Gaara cuts in, once again taking up my wrist and leading me across the kitchen and out into the hallway on the other side.

Glancing behind us, Kankuro is starring after us, pizza still halfway to his mouth and Temari is mumbling to herself. I turn back to Gaara, "You don't bring people over much, do you?"

I get the Gaara version of 'No...REALLY?' as he opens a door painted in black and drags me in.

Gaara is pretty eclectic and his room is like a work of art reflecting just that. The carpet in here is a shade of red matching his hair and the walls are painted black. The only thing in the way of furniture is a raised futon in the center of the room. Several old fashioned looking lanterns are hanging overhead and emit a softer orange-ish glow. All four walls are open closet space lined with clothes of nearly every shade in every color. Bookcase type compartments separate the colors from each other and some are filled with books and other with accessories. I can see an archway partly obscured by clothes on the left wall and it turns out to be Gaara's bathroom. There are three steps leading down into it and its completely round, forming a dome shaped ceiling and feels like a cave more than anything else with walls as black as the bedroom and fixtures the same red of Gaara's hair.

I turn to Gaara, wide eyed and amazed, "You have the coolest room I have ever seen"

Gaara gives me a bland look and seems to find my curiosity amusing but ignores me soon enough in favor of his clothing wall.

Abandoned, I crawl into his futon and sigh blissfully; the new apartment has a bed just as soft, if not softer that this thing and for a moment I forget about my crazy mission and snuggle into Gaara's pillow.

Something lands on my back and I reach blindly for it: a pair of dark jeans. I sit up and shrug, pulling them on. It isn't till I've zipped them up and buttoned them that I realize they are SKINNY jeans. I glare at Gaara's appraising look and am about to complain when Gaara tosses a sweater into my face.

"Nice" I mutter under my breath and hold up the sweater to take a look: an incredibly deep mauve thing with huge front pockets and a high collar. The tag tells me helpfully that it's from GAP.

I knew Gaara was part fearless and part creepy but I clearly had no idea how much.

I shrug and pull it on too. What harm can it do? Besides Sasuke, who else is going to see me other than Gaara, and anyway, the point is that the stuff is dark, right?

Gaara seems satisfied and soon enough we are back down the hall, me waving cheerfully goodbye to the two sitting, still dumbfounded it seems, in the kitchen and out to the coatroom and into the elevator.

~!@!~

Gaara tells his driver to wait and walks purposefully towards the large assortment of stone buildings just across the street from us, me tagging along behind, my eyes never leaving the place. THIS is a boarding school? I never knew they even made places that looked like this!

Gaara slips onto the property and we hurry through the dark. I look around as much as I can considering the lack of lighting despite the lamp-lit pathways but we are avoiding those. By now, it¡¯s well past 9 o'clock if not 10 and very few people are still out.

Gaara leads me to a tall, brick tower like building and around to the back entrance. Despite the obvious age of the building, the back door is a heavy metal affair with a security pad and a stationary camera.

Gaara doesn't even glance at the camera and walks straight up to the door and knocks quietly, the metal reverberating under his fingers.

A few minutes later, the door clicks open and a guy, probably slightly older than us, with green eyes and hair that somehow seemed white in the dark lets us in.

The boy looks at me only in passing and settles on Gaara with a mild expression, "Try to be gone before 11 and don't get caught"

The space between Gaara's eyes peaks slightly, showing that he's frowning and doesn't look at the guy but over his shoulder, to the stairwell behind him, "You wouldn't have let me in, Kimimaro, if I was going to get caught"

The newly dubbed Kimimaro elaborates by nodding in my direction, "I meant him, not you"

Gaara shrugs, uncaring, "Same thing"

Kimimaro seems to accept this answer and disappears up the stair without another word.

Vaguely insulted, I glance around and realize that this is a storage room by the looks of the extra pillows and sheets among other things stacked down here, "He's awfully friendly"

Gaara listens from the bottom of the stairs and motions to me, "Coast is clear; let's go"

So far so good, I think.

~!@!~

It's been maybe twenty minutes. Gaara and I are climbing the dark, unused service stairs to avoid bumping into anyone we shouldn't. I should feel apprehensive since this isn't something I do everyday but Gaara's confidence in what he's doing puts me at ease. At least one of us knows where we're going.

At the top of the stairway, a heavy door with a regular key lock is our last barrier until we actually get into the dorm. According to Gaara, the service stairs will only get us as far as the fifth floor.
¡°Are you sure about this?¡± I whisper, alarmed at Gaara¡¯s excellent break and enter skills after he effortlessly picks the lock and quietly peeks around the door.

Probably sensing the return of my unease, Gaara actually answers, "Positive"

We enter the lavish hallway and Gaara makes a beeline for the marble spiral staircase leading ever upwards. I follow, subdued and nervous.

We stop on the eight floor and Gaara stands guard by the stairs, "Room 88"

I hurry down the hallway and find the room. Gaara hurries after me and motions for me to go in.

I turn the doorknob and slip inside.

The room seems empty as far as I can tell. I turn to glance back at Gaara, but he nods towards the general darkness ahead of me and steps back into the hallway to keep watch, shutting the door halfway.

I turn back to the room and my eyes adjust slowly to the dimness of the lamplight from the far desk. There is a four-poster bed that looks like it hasn¡¯t been slept on yet and a bare nightstand and an empty closet.

I spot what must be Sasuke¡¯s bags lying by the closet, unopened.

Tentative, I step further into the room and shiver slightly from the breeze coming in from the balcony, ¡°Sasu-¡°
Standing just beyond the billowing curtains, I can make out a shape.

Behind me, the door slams shut and my heart leaps into my throat. I turn around on the spot and head for the door, thinking of Gaara. I make it halfway there before hands catch hold of my upper arms and drag me back.
I struggle briefly, scarred witless before making the connection between the arms hauling me back towards the bed and the only other person in the room who could have grabbed me.

I catch a shadowed glimpse of Sasuke¡¯s serious face, ¡°But Gaara-¡°

Sasuke drags me onto the bed and puts my hands on his shoulders. Babbling about Gaara, I still manage to follow what¡¯s going on.

Sasuke boosts me up and I grab hold of the wooden top I hadn¡¯t noticed over the bed. It¡¯s a tight squeeze, but with Sasuke¡¯s hand nearly up my bum with the pushing, I don¡¯t manage a protest as I squeeze unwillingly into the space between the wood panel and the ceiling.

¡°Don¡¯t move¡±, Sasuke whispers seriously.

The wood panel creaks ominously and I suck in a breath and do as I¡¯m told.

Seconds later, I hear Sasuke hurry into bed and settle just as the door opens again.

Light spilling in from the hallway leaves the person standing there impossible to discern clearly, but one thing¡¯s for sure, they¡¯re likely to kick me out if I¡¯m found.

Said person steps into the room and heads to the balcony, shutting and what sounds like locking the doors before switching off the lamp and returning to stand in the doorway.

The night watch seems to think everything is in order, because, whoever they are, they shut the door and leave. I hear footsteps echoing down the halls and desperately wonder where Gaara¡¯s gotten to.

Below me, when everything is quiet again, Sasuke shifts out of bed, ¡°Come here¡±

I pull myself to the edge and peer down at Sasuke. He holds his arms out to me and I reach back. Grabbing my wrists, he gently pulls me, trying to make as little noise as possible.

I¡¯m thankful for the dark because I¡¯m sure that if I could see, I¡¯d be freaking out about the height I¡¯m being dragged down from, but Sasuke holds firmly to every inch of me and hoists me down silently.

I lean backwards too far once I¡¯m on my feet and tumble into the bed.

Sasuke stands over me, face completely shrouded in the dark, ¡°What the hell are you doing here?¡±

I stifle my regular reaction when I hear the toneless inflection of his voice and tell him as simply as I can manage:

¡°Looking for you, asshole¡±

Sasuke scoffs, and tells me in a patronizing tone: ¡°You really are the biggest idiot I¡¯ve ever met. Just because I transfer schools doesn¡¯t mean the world is fucking ending¡±

¡°I resent that tone of voice and no, you assume way much about the world ending part¡±, I tell him, taking the opportunity to burrow into the luxurious sheets under me, made somewhat at ease by his frosty demeanor. This is generic pissed-off Sasuke; I can work with this.

Sasuke steps closer to the bed and sits on the end like he¡¯d rather not come near me, ¡°You really are something¡±

I peer hard at him, unable to tell his facial expression because of the moonlight behind him, ¡°Why are you here?¡±

Sasuke continues as though he hadn¡¯t heard the question, ¡°I could do anything to you. Gaara¡¯s gone and you¡¯d risk getting caught if you left now. If I pretend not to know you, they¡¯d call the police and you¡¯d be handed over to social services, right? Or you could stay here¡±, he continues coldly blas¨¦, ¡°and I could beat you¡­or rape you. Any terrible, irreversible or painful thing that comes to mind¡±

I shiver and scowl, trying for indifferent, ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like the answer I was looking for¡±

Sasuke laughs and I relax a fraction. He peers at me from where he¡¯s sitting, dark eyes narrowed a bit, mouth twisted in what must be an amused smile but looks like a manic one in the shadowy dark, ¡°Think I wouldn¡¯t?¡±

I swallow my saliva, survival instincts I didn¡¯t know I had coming to the fore keep me silent. He wants provocation, I realize, my blood turning to ice in my veins. He wants a reason to prove me wrong. Well, fuck it, I¡¯m used to his mood swings by now, so I know what to expect. Let¡¯s try a new tactic, shall we?

I glance at the bedside table and turn on the lamp, illuminating Sasuke¡¯s somber face. Guess he was serious; try not to faint Naruto, ¡°Did something happen? Why are you living in dorm? Is Itachi-¡°

The moment Sasuke hears that name, he flinches, but taking a closer look, I see it¡¯s because he¡¯s furious. He stares me down, daring me to open my mouth again, ¡°Do you want me to hurt you?¡±

Silently, I inch further up along the bed and press myself against the headboard. This is looking more and more like a repeat performance of the attempt at molestation I¡¯ve already been subjected to; maybe if I stay very still and very quiet he¡¯ll lose interest?

Sasuke seems to realize this and backs off, eyeing me with an oddly neutral expression, ¡°You always poke your nose into my business. Keep it up and I¡¯ll break that nose¡±

I get a little angry despite myself, ¡°Does anyone else ask you? Does anyone else give a damn? I ask because I¡¯m trying to figure out why you¡¯re so fucked up in the first place and what the hell Itachi has to do with it¡±
Sasuke shrugs off my outburst and reaches for his bag. I watch him pull a carton of cigarettes, select one and light up, ¡°I thought you hated when Itachi smoked?¡±

Sasuke smirks, the cigarette dangling from his lips like it was born there, ¡°I picked up the habit and he stopped. He doesn¡¯t like to share with me¡±

I want to argue the twisted logic in that but I¡¯m distracted by Sasuke¡¯s change in demeanor, ¡°Where is he? Haku says you guys already sold your place¡±

Sasuke takes an impossibly long drag and talks through the smoke, ¡°He dumped me here and left with Kisame¡±
I stare at him, ¡°But-¡°

He waves away what I was going to say, ¡°I won¡¯t be here all that long anyway¡±, and he winks at me and adopts a mocking tone, ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡±

Sometimes I wonder why I bother, ¡°What do you mean you won¡¯t be here all that long?¡±

That dangerous look comes back and Sasuke prowls closer, sitting next to me. He takes my hand, me watching dumbly all the while, and plucks his cigarette from his mouth with his free hand and holds the butt so close to the skin of my wrist that it singes a bit, ¡°Feel that?¡±

I nod, mute and waiting to see what he¡¯ll do.

Sasuke looks me in the eye, ¡°This is how I feel every time I see your face¡±

Smiling slightly and still looking me in the face, Sasuke draws the butt along my wrist. I yelp and try to tug my hand out of his grip, tears springing unnoticed to my eyes from the pain. In contrast to my burnt flesh, Sasuke¡¯s grip is ice cold and I glare ferociously at him.

Sasuke let¡¯s me struggle and brings the cigarette back up to his mouth to take another drag. After a moment of stalemate starring, Sasuke looks at my wrist and I do to. It¡¯s already cooled but my stomach churns at the sight; burnt or charred just about cover it and I know it¡¯s gonna scar. Sasuke blows lightly mint-smelling smoke under my nose, ¡°¡­and that¡¯s how I feel when you ask me questions and say you care¡±

I swallow nervously and look at Sasuke. His face is oddly serene, like he¡¯s not sitting next to me and mutilating my wrist, ¡°No matter what you say to me, Naruto, consider this¡±, he pauses, taking into account what¡¯s left of his cigarette and I watch transfixed, somehow unable to believe he¡¯s going to do more damage as he pulls a final drag and tightens his hold on my wrist before lowering the burning orange tip to hover over the center of my palm, ¡°I have to watch you turn your back and leave every time because you still don¡¯t understand that I either want you completely or not at all¡±

Sasuke doesn¡¯t look at me when he presses the butt into my palm. The pain gives me the strength to wrench my hand away, finally, and I punch him, my awkward left hand still connecting with a satisfying crack.

I cradle my right hand against my chest and cautiously watch Sasuke. He¡¯ s still carefully not looking at me and the tension in his shoulders bellies the confidence he seemed to have had while hurting me. I glare silently at the back of his head, willing it to explode, ¡°I¡¯ve figured something out¡±

Sasuke inclines his head to show me he¡¯s listening and I continue through gritted teeth, trying my best not to shout, ¡°Clearly we have a communication problem. I ask you a simply question and you go fucking crazy, and for what? So we can end up here? Are you telling me you¡¯re satisfied with confusing the hell out of me? That you can¡¯t sit down and talk to me like a sane person?¡±

I¡¯m trembling, I¡¯m so angry and the Sasuke I want to have a confrontation with is gone, replaced by the silent thing sitting next to me, ¡°What is you¡¯re bloody problem? You know it, so why can¡¯t you just tell me? You can¡¯t possibly expect me to believe you like me when all you have ever done is pick on me, or talk down to me, or hurt me. The ¡®us¡¯ in the equation has always been you slowly killing me, nothing else. Why do you think I¡¯m dating Neji? Because he abuses me? He¡¯s your fucking polar opposite for Christ¡¯s sake¡±

I¡¯ve run out of jarring things to say and hold my tongue from loosing the things I know I can¡¯t say; about Itachi and about what I¡¯ve pretended not to know about Sasuke¡¯s past. That¡¯s for another time, if there is one.
I don¡¯t register when Sasuke has moved closer, arms braced on either side of my waist and starring me in the face, eyes like coal: dark yet burning.

I watch him and pointedly stare him down, ¡°That¡¯s a nice bruise¡±

Sasuke shrugs, head lowering and dark hair tickling along my neck. Baffled by his behavior, I again miss his sudden movement.

The hand around my neck is familiarly cold and I swallow reflexively when the hand tightens. I open my mouth and find the hand tightening a second time.

Sasuke shifts my face towards his, hand never leaving my neck and leans down, unhurried, to look me, ¡°You never learn¡±

He tightens his hold until my vision grays in the corners and I black out.

When I come to, my head¡¯s like a jar of cotton.

¡°Naruto?¡±

Gaara, standing at my side, eyes displaying something I¡¯ve never seen in them before: anger.

I look around for signs of Sasuke but we are already outside, by the back gate.

I concentrate and my mouth moves to answer but no words come. What the fuck just happened? Was that Johnny the Homicidal Maniac or Itachi? Worse, was that twisted person in there even Sasuke at all?

I look up at Gaara but he only shakes his head, indicating that this was neither the time nor place to ask questions and hoists me to my feet, out the gate and towards his car parked across the street.

The chauffeur says nothing and Gaara tells him simply to drive us home.

~!@!~

The tears have long since dried on my face.

Gaara, whose been looking after me since Neji stormed out, seems not the least bit uncomfortable with his black eye.

He¡¯s talking to me gently, as if trying not to jar me, ¡°What happened?¡±

I look at him, but I can¡¯t answer. My mind is still trying to wrap itself around Neji¡¯s anger: the immensity of it. He¡¯d taken one look at me and it¡¯s as if he¡¯d known where I¡¯d been. He didn¡¯t ask Gaara a thing; just slugged him. Then he left, not a word or second glance in my direction.

It¡¯s been an hour.

Gaara¡¯s black eye is turning a deep near black mauve that¡¯s wholly unpleasant to see. Slowly, feeling alien in my own place, I head to the kitchen.

Gaara follows silently.

I grab some ice and press it to the corner of his eye, barehanded.

Gaara doesn¡¯t even wince, but he can look me in the eyes this way, ¡°What did Sasuke do?¡±

I feel strangely insulated, as if the world as I knew it was made of cotton, or at least the air was. Gaara¡¯s words seemed to enter my ears as if spoken through glass and my ability to understand what was being said to me is nonexistent.

What had happened to me?

Had Sasuke tried to kill me or warn me off?

The harder I think about it, the less I can comprehend.

Gaara¡¯s watching me intensely, speculatively, ¡°Maybe you should go to bed¡±

If I¡¯d been in my right mind, I¡¯d have noticed that Gaara never talks nearly this much, in complete sentences no less, but I only nod, surprising keen on the suggestion though none of my higher order brain functions seem to be working.

Neji doesn¡¯t come home that night.

~!@!~

Haku watches me, not able to completely mask his relief at my throat having no lasting damage, other then the blue, fingertip shaped bruises I¡¯m sporting: four fingers and a thumb.

I feel perfectly fine, except that I can¡¯t talk.

Shika is sitting and supervising on my left, ¡°It¡¯s probably shock¡±

I glance up from my cereal and cock my head inquiringly.

He grimly crosses his arms over his chest, and smiles ruefully, ¡°I can¡¯t imagine what happened, though you¡¯ll have to write it down for us later, but the reason you can¡¯t talk is probably shock... and the fact that your windpipe is probably swollen shut¡±

Shock, huh?

I turn back to my cereal, eating more slowly. Not automatically being able to talk to people around me has already caused a bit of tension and as far as my actual throat was concerned, it felt gravely and more or less useless.

All I¡¯m told about Neji is that he left a letter for Shika that I am not privy to.

Well, fuck that. I¡¯ve been screwed over hard enough for the next 24 hours to be pain-in-the-arse free guaranteed. I¡¯ll pass on any other stress inducing circumstances, gracias.
The phone rings and Gaara, presumably in the kitchen, answers. Gaara sounds fairly neutral so I guess he¡¯s either talking to Temari or Kankuro.

Haku wanders over to the window and stares unhappily out.

The doorbell rings and I glance up but Shika pulls me back from half sitting up, ¡°I¡¯ll get it. Eat your stuff¡±
I watch dumbly as he exits.

Alone with Haku, I grow slightly uncomfortable. Haku and Shika are honest to God my best friends, and I know this because this is the first time in my lifetime that I can say that and be sure about it, but I wonder, not for the first time, if this wasn¡¯t over the edge as far as I¡¯m concerned.

Haku turns half to me, but is still starring out, ¡°I can only think of one person who¡¯d do that to you¡±

I swallow thickly since it¡¯s not like I can answer.

Haku runs his hands through his hair in such a way as to tuck loose hair behind his ears and turns to me, eyes very sad, ¡°He¡¯s not some pet project Naruto. He¡¯s a living, breathing person. He¡¯s reckless and clearly dangerous and you can¡¯t keep trying to help him¡­especially if this is the result of trying to pick apart his feelings¡±

I gaze at Haku, seeing his point and wanting to argue it out of habit, but I¡¯m unable to.

I scrunch my face at him instead.

Haku laughs a little and sobers in the same instant, ¡°I know how you feel, wanting to help and all but I need you to face facts: He¡¯s dangerous and willing very much to hurt you. Not only that, but every time it¡¯s the same thing. He opens up a little and something happens to make him slam even more tightly shut. However, there¡¯s a point where you have to stop. It¡¯s already been dangerous, so it can only become more dangerous. And Neji is beside himself trying to figure out how to keep you away from Sasuke¡±

My eyes widen in surprise; Haku knows something I definitely don¡¯t.

Haku sighs, ¡°You won¡¯t like this but we¡¯ve all talked about it. Neji isn¡¯t the kind of person to ask for help since he¡¯s normally so capable on his own, but he¡¯s been talking to us about it. It¡¯s hard for him because he¡¯s very private, but he asked Shika and me first and Gaara third and then Shino until we were all part of trying to figure out a solution¡±

I am a little angry, true, but mostly, I¡¯m humbled. I realize that when I never talked about Sasuke to Neji, he¡¯d already figured out what¡¯d had me preoccupied in the first place.

Crackers¡­

Haku shrugs, ¡°He wrote to Shika to ask us to keep an eye on you until he comes home, which we would¡¯ve done anyway, because I suspect he needs some time to think¡±

My hopeful expression makes Haku smile, ¡°So he¡¯s definitely coming back¡±

I grin, despite myself.

Haku shrugs at me, ¡°You¡¯re definitely not off the hook yet though. You¡¯re going to have to explain what happened when he gets back and we are going to decide a course of action based on what you can get across to us¡±

His grave face makes me want to turn my face into my cereal, which has gone pathetically soggy.

Someone knocks quietly at the door and I look up and find Shino standing there, frowning deeply.

I smile at him and he nods a greeting at Haku before coming to sit by me. His hand reaches out to touch the bruises and Haku watches as Shino slowly fits his fingers over the marks. They exchange a charged look. They seem to be avoiding the topic of my injured right hand, but I guess this is the greater of two evils.

I know what it looks like, and they already know what it is, so I know at least that the shock has somewhat diminished for them, it¡¯s just the circumstances they won¡¯t like.

Cripes, why me?

That aside, I feel fine. It doesn¡¯t feel like I was nearly strangled. My throat is sort of closed up, but it¡¯s not more painful more then it is awkward, so I¡¯m managing fine. An unholy amount of brain cells may have died and I can¡¯t actually speak yet but I feel as though I¡¯ve survived this more than just barely.

Presently, I¡¯m sleepy again, so Shino takes my tray and boogies down to the end of my bed where Haku joins him and they sit, watching me drift off.

If I think the look they don¡¯t think I see them give me is bad, I can only imagine what Neji¡¯s will look like.

~!@!~

TBC...