The art of sand

Chapter3

Gaara dropped his keys on the kitchen counter of his apartment. He had opted to leave the lights off upon entering the small place. He opened his fridge door and pull out a soda, before heading to the couch in the next room. He looked to the clock on the stove on the way. He sighed. Another long, sleepless night lay ahead of him. He dropped onto his couch and picked up the remote for the television, and then debated calling one of the few people he associated with to come over. It was, after all, a Saturday. He quickly pushed the thought from his head. He was definitely not a people person. Though he would talk with those few people, he could never spend more than an hour with them before the desire to rip them in half to shut them up washed over him. He settled the television on a channel, and tried to focus in the images flashing on the screen. He trained his eyes not to stray to the window. He used to roam the city at night. He would pick fights with anything that crossed his path. He smiled lightly at the memory. He clenched his fights, itching to put the fighting skills to use once more. The knowledge of what waited past those walls forced him to stay indoors. And that was what was knocking on his door.

Gaara growled low in his throat as he pulled himself off the couch. He crossed the distance to the door quickly, and pulled the door open carefully. The man standing there was the only thing that could truly hurt Gaara. The red haired young man felt his heart tighten. He growled once more and slammed the door in his father’s face.

"Gaara, open it," the man demanded.

Gaara walked back to the couch and threw himself down. He looked out the window now. The black sky would have hidden them to any normal person. Gaara was so far from normal. He grinned wildly at the men perched on the balcony, shrouded in black clothing from head to toe and shadows. A collective shiver passed through the assassins, but they remained unmoving. The door was taking quite a beating now.

"Gaara, please open it. We won’t let anything happen."

Gaara’s forehead wrinkled in the action of raising an eyebrow. Temari? Gaara started to stand. He had not seen his sister since he had thrown a knife at her.

"Goddamnit, Gaara! Open the fucking door!"

Gaara let out a low chuckle. He stood completely, and went to open the door. There stood his family. Kankuro stood with a fist raised.

"Stop beating my door. It doesn’t like getting hit," Gaara hissed.

Kankuro swallowed hard, and quickly lowered his hand. Temari glared daggers at her younger brother. Her eyes told him she had not forgiven him for the previous attack. Gaara stepped back to allow them in. He smirked as Temari passed by.

"Don’t worry, they’re all dirty."

Temari ground her teeth together and walked into the apartment quicker. She stayed near their father.

"Gaara. Come home."

It was not a request. Gaara narrowed his eyes.

"Let him start off like that and you won’t be standing in here for much longer," he warned his siblings.

"Father, remember your promise," Temari said soothingly.

"Gaara, I will call off the assassins. I was wrong to have ever attempted to harm you. Please, I miss you, son," his father’s voice was kinder, but very forced.

The intent in Gaara’s eyes was unmistakable. Kankuro moved in front of their father protectively. Temari’s hand plunged into her pocket. Gaara spread his feet apart.

"Don’t do this," Kankuro pleaded.

Gaara’s face betrayed no thoughts. His father’s face had paled. Gaara’s gaze flicked to the men on his balcony. They had moved to a position easier to break in with. Gaara broke out into a cold laughter. Every person who could hear it broke into a visible shudder. Gaara turned his back on the people in his apartment and headed for the kitchen. Temari locked up in fear. They watched him slowly open drawers and cabinets. He came out with a box of crackers. He popped one in his mouth before offering the box to the others. Kankuro fell to the ground, landing on his butt. Temari fell to her knees.

"What? I was hungry," Gaara snapped.

His father smiled and let out a soft laugh.

"Gaara….."

"Don’t mistake me, Father. I will never go back to you. This is my home now. If you’re here to check on me and show me something worthwhile, you know what to do. Now, I have a long night ahead of me. Please leave."

The unspoken threat hung on his last words. His father raised his hand. Gaara saw the assassins disappear from the balcony. His father looked around slowly before stepping forward and taking the offered box. He raised an eyebrow to inspect the contents before handing it back.

"Don’t eat too much junk food. I’d like it if you came home to visit once in awhile. Maybe once a month for dinner?"

"Show me I can trust you, Father."

His father nodded. His expression never faltered. He motioned for the two people picking themselves off the ground to follow him out. Gaara watched them leave. Before the door closed, he called out to his siblings.

"You two can come visit if you need to. Just don’t bring that bastard back to my home."