Naruto - Run with the Wind 2 Series: Naruto Characters: Gaara, Lee Pairing: none yet, possible Gaara/Lee if I write more Type: highschool AU Warnings: Gaara wears eyeliner Spoilers: none Word Count: 780 Etc: I'm not sure why I keep writing this, but...here it is. And apparently there's more lurking in my head somewhere, it's just less defined.
Gaara stares at the wall as he has for most of the past week. Grounded means no clubs, no computer, no books, and no friends—not that he has any of those. His reputation as a mentally unstable reclusive artist keeps just about everyone away, and he likes it that way. His siblings are mad at him for making everyone whisper behind their backs again. It’s easier to be alone than deal with people.
In a few hours, his father would be back, and he’ll be screamed at as his father takes out the lingering rage of losing his wife because Gaara was born. He likes reminding his son of how Karura cursed him before she died. After hearing it so many times, there is only numbness. Yashamaru had—don’t think about it.
The wall is still the same color. He’s already done his homework. The doorbell rings and it takes him a moment to recognize the sound. Normally he’d let it ring until the person went away, but it beats staring at the wall.
Gaara opens the door and his eyes go wide.
“Hi,” greets Lee, leaning on a crutch.
Gaara almost shuts the door in his face, but is still in shock. Instead, he steps back to let him in.
Looking around appreciatively, Lee comments, “Nice place you have here. It’s huge!” He doesn’t add that it’s paradise compared to where he lives—his uncle’s rundown shoebox masquerading as an apartment.
The redhead stares at the crutch.
“Oh, this? I only twisted my ankle, the fall wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked. No hard feelings at all. I’m sorry that I bothered you.” Lee’s smile broke. “I seem to bother people really easily, I forget that sometimes. I know what it’s like to be lonely…” He waves his free hand. “But don’t worry about it! Everything’s ok.”
Gaara’s eyes move to the large purple bruise on the older boy’s shoulder, then to his face. “You’re not angry?”
“No, of course not! I mean, I must have been really rude for you to have pushed me like that, and it’s only a sprained ankle.” Lee smiles again, wide and honest.
He thinks about what it must mean for a boy who was bad at sports to finally win at something, to be the star track player and have that taken away. He avoids looking at Lee, not wanting to own up to the emotions inside him as they demand voice. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s water under the bridge, no worries! Oh and here’s your book back.” Lee struggles to fetch the book from his pack without overbalancing.
“Come into my room and sit down.” Gaara wonders why he’s offering. Not even his siblings come into his room most of the time. Even so, he doesn’t take back his offer and walks to the end of the long hallway. “In here.”
Lee freezes once in the doorway, mouth open, unable to believe how much glass is in one space. Ornate lamps, paperweights, figurines, fixtures, and vases of every color and shape cover almost every available bit of surface area. “They’re beautiful!”
Black-rimmed eyes stare at him.
“Oh, right, the book.” He awkwardly hobbles over to the desk, the only place to sit besides the bed, and struggles out of his backpack. Pulling out the well-thumbed copy, he hands it to Gaara. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get it to you sooner. I had trouble finding your address.”
“Thank you.” The words are slow in coming, rusty, as if they haven’t seen much use.
Lee smiles again. “You’re welcome!” Now he isn’t sure what to say, so he struggles to get himself back up.
“Stay a while.” Gaara isn’t sure why he offers. He’s grounded; he’s not supposed to have friends over. But Lee isn’t a friend, so it doesn’t count. He tries to remember what Temari does when she invites people over.
“Want something to drink?” It’s awkward, stilted.
“Ice water would be nice,”
Gaara stares at Lee, not sure what to do. Soon enough Lee starts talking about nothing to fill the silence, and he listens for an entire hour.
Lee’s eyes drift over to the clock on the nightstand. “Ack! Look at the time! I’m going to be late making dinner!”
The redhead holds Lee’s crutch and the door for him, staring at the black-haired boy for several moments.
“Come back some time.” He isn’t sure what makes him say that.
“I will! It’s a promise!” Lee gives him a thumbs-up and continues on his way.
When he returns to his room, a book he doesn’t recognize is lying on the floor by his desk. Gaara sighs irritably.