Chapter 2
It was Hinata’s hands that woke him, with callused fingertips that traced along his sleeve.
Gaara went rigid upon awakening but quickly adjusted to the notion that she had made it back home from picking up Himawari at the Hyuga’s. “Hi,” he said, eyes still closed.
“Hi. Are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you.”
“You're fine. Do you need me for anything?”
“Not really, but you have a date to get to, don't you?”
Gaara opened his eyes. The lights were off, as usual, and Hinata sat at the edge of the bed, her hand still stroking his sleeve. It was nice.
He tried to judge her tone, to see if there was a reason for the spark of quasi-guilt settled low in his chest, but, as expected, she wouldn't begrudge him a thing. Even this.
“I'm sorry,” Gaara said. A blush lit his ears and cheeks.
“Don't be. Relax.” Hinata leaned in to press her mouth against Gaara’s cheek.
This level of affection was somewhat new between them—budding from a different bloom. If her words said don’t be, this was her testament to you don’t have to be. She took his breath away from him each time she did something like this.
“Have a good time, okay?” she said.
“Okay…” Gaara reached for her when she pulled back but, without a way to put his thoughts into words, decided to leave it for now. He had time to get his head together first.
Hinata's eyes caught light from the window as she smiled. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
That was true.
Gaara didn't waste too much more time before making his way to the Hokage Office. The night had cooled off from the heat of the day already, a rustling breeze wrapped all around him.
Naruto was alone in his office again. Given the hour, Gaara could only assume no one would be joining them any time soon, outside of an emergency. He crossed his arms, standing by as Naruto got ready to leave.
“Everyone else released for the day?” he asked.
Naruto peered right through him, the way he always fucking did. “You promised me dinner first, Gaara.”
Gaara shrugged. “You’ll have to forgive me.”
“How could I not?” Naruto came from behind the desk, leaving his cloak clinging to the chair, and stopped when he went to stand in front of Gaara.
They had never been further apart in height and build than in the past ten years; standing so close together, Gaara had to tilt his head back and look up into Naruto’s eyes. It seemed like he took up Gaara’s whole world.
That’s probably why he missed Naruto’s arms coming around him, bringing them near enough to touch and securing him in a strong, sure, warm embrace. He couldn't be sure, of course, but it felt as though every nerve ending in his body came alive, eviscerating whatever numbness had remained in his heart, his wounds.
(Pathetic, he accused himself. Starved, he then corrected.)
“Ah, I see,” Naruto murmured. Almost enough to call quiet. He placed his bandaged hand against Gaara’s cheek and ran a thumb beneath his eye. It took no time at all for Gaara to realize Naruto was following the black marks around his eyes even while they held each other’s gaze.
They were so close, Gaara could see the fine etches of Naruto’s whiskers where they impressed on the skin.
“She was right,” Naruto said. “You do look really tired y’know.”
Gaara froze. Of course Hinata would’ve said something like that to Naruto. Just because they didn’t spend all of every night together didn’t mean they’d grown any further apart. If even the smallest part of their relationship worked like that, both Naruto and Hinata would’ve stopped caring about Gaara a long, long time ago.
That was a shit prospect. He could feel himself souring even as he tried to forget he’d ever thought it in the first place. Just leave it to him to ruin his own damn day.
“What did you have to tell me?” he asked.
Naruto smiled as he stepped back without even flinching at the way Gaara’s voice flexed in irritation. “Food first! Food!”
Oh god. Even the dorkiest shit made Gaara’s heart soar. It was a lot to handle. He rescinded out of his irate mood as quickly as it had hit, falling victim to being swept away by this guy. Just like he always was.
They chatted back and forth a bit before Naruto naturally took over the conversation and held onto Gaara's hand the whole way to Ichiraku Ramen. Any level of affection was expected from Naruto, but even this seemed sweeter than usual, sugarier; melting around Gaara to weld him in place.
A swell of memories arose as the two of them proceeded past the doors into the restaurant together and took seats at the bar.
“Two large miso char siu ramen with naruto fish cake topping and—this, if it's still good.” Naruto presented a taped-up gift certificate that the owner of the shop had given as a wedding present. He squinted as he smiled, handing it over, then faced Gaara once they were alone. “So you're here for a week?”
“Seems so.” Gaara couldn't keep up with his energy, but being confronted with it always felt so incredibly nice that he naturally wanted to match it as much as he could. That wasn’t the case today.
“Don't look so excited about it y’know.” Another grin lit Naruto’s face.
“I am. I’m just…”
Dramatic, Gaara suddenly wanted to say. Childish, dreaming—but self-deprecation never flew in the presence of Naruto Uzumaki. Soon, that way of thinking had rubbed off on Gaara, too. Only when he got so depressed did he sink into such unrestrained negativity, as was wont to sometimes happen.
Naruto reached under the bar for Gaara’s hand, which had been tucked between his legs, closed off as he was. Their fingers linked together in his lap, and he really didn’t care what it said about him that every bit of contact set him further on edge in the brightest, haziest ways.
“I know,” Naruto said. “You're hurting a lot, right? I'm sorry you had to come to me in order for me to take care of you, but I'm here.” His hand tightened around Gaara’s. “It's just—it’s gonna be okay. Try to remember that.”
With that open expression on his face and the way he held onto Gaara as though he could anchor them both in a hurricane—Gaara wanted to cry. Well, it was actually the last thing he wanted to do in a restaurant, even if it wasn't too busy, but it's what he felt like he was about to do.
He buried his face in his free hand, turning away from Naruto’s blazing smile. “You're too much.”
A thumb stroked across his knuckles, lulling Gaara further, and if this is what Naruto could accomplish with only a thumb, Gaara wasn't sure how he'd fare when the rest got to work.
“I know it wasn't your idea, and I'm probably not the best person for you, but I wanted to see you, anyway, as long as you wanted to see me too,” Naruto said.
The lack of his characteristic confidence spoke to missteps he’d taken in their relationship before—due to his own tunnel vision and inconsideration, admittedly—that had never quite dissipated even after Gaara assured him that the past could no longer harm them. It hurt to hear echo in his voice even now, over 15 years later, but, selfishly perhaps, having that pain validated in such a way...
Naruto then turned Gaara’s hand over in his own and massaged his palm, fingers, wrist. His movements were nowhere near fast; more like deliberate and long and amazingly warm. The kind of ministrations that people performed with perfect focus in intimate settings—pointedly, for one, not in a popular ramen shop, middle of the night.
But this was Naruto here. It wouldn’t be the most outlandish thing Gaara had ever witnessed him pull off before (and damn but did he have a way of executing stunts like this without even thinking twice about it; how did Hinata survive living with this?).
“Sorry to say it again, but I really am glad you’re here. I miss seeing you between Kage meetings,” Naruto said. Little things like that dotted his concentration, and his voice sounded like the sun-honeyed wind that blew through the trees all over the village and nation.
That’s right—Naruto reminded Gaara often of tall, solid trees grown from solitary shrubs. The loneliest ones were said to grow the strongest.
He kept right on massaging Gaara’s hand.
By the time their orders arrived, Gaara’s face had been flushed a rose that only worsened over the steam from the bowl, old wounds long healed and forgotten again.
Naruto, as usual, managed somehow to make matters worse—he put the back of his hand to Gaara’s forehead in a sensitive, compassionate gesture.
“Just making sure you're okay since you got so quiet again. I'll let you eat now.”
The presence of a large ramen from Ichiraku saved what remained of Gaara’s good sense, thankfully. He dug in after realizing just how hungry he'd become. Naruto had already started. There wasn't a ton of room for conversation after that, at least for a while.
At payout, Naruto grabbed a handful of fruit-flavored candies and mints from a bowl near the register, with a winning smile. The way it looked so natural on his face, anyone would have a hard time believing he had lived through a handful of human tragedies.
So had Gaara, of course, but he assumed that much was painfully clear on his own face.
***
Naruto steered them home, his arm latched over Gaara’s shoulders. “Say, do you want a drink?” he asked as soon as they made it through the door and shuffled out of their boots.
“Not a drink,” Gaara said, “but I was going to smoke.” He hesitated, waiting for Naruto.
“Hmm… care to share? We have some, too, so you don’t have to go home dry.”
“Either way is fine.”
“Let me go grab it. I'll be right back.” Even as he darted up the stairs, a subdued, mischievous glimmer lit Naruto’s eyes. “Don't go far.”
Gaara brushed off the assurance—though not without admitting to himself that he enjoyed when it centered on him.
He drifted into the kitchen and, moving on automatic, set the kettle on the stove after filling it. His hands found mugs in much the same way they moved around his own home back in Suna. Eyes found containers full of teas as regularly as though he’d lived here his whole life.
Quiet wasn't a quality many could attribute to Naruto, but that's certainly how he moved through the house on the way back downstairs. He turned on the stove light to throw some relief over the space; no one needed more than that, between the two of them.
“Do you want to take care of it or should I?” he asked, too close.
Gaara eyed his right hand briefly. It wasn’t bandaged because it looked cool.
“I got it.” Gaara ground up a pile of bud and packed it into a bowl, shoving it into Naruto’s chest when he had finished.
The gesture created some space between them, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference when Naruto reached up to trap Gaara’s hand—pipe and all—against his chest before Gaara could dart away. Heat hammered into his skin where he could feel Naruto’s heart beating strong and sure. Not exactly at rest but very calm.
“Come outside with me?” Naruto cocked his head toward the back door as he slid the pipe from Gaara’s hand.
“I was going to make tea.”
“Gaara. Please, come?”
Powerless, Gaara followed. The night shimmered around him, full of residual heat from the day still hanging around in concrete and in stone. Wind that passed through trees was blessedly cool, though, much like home, a relief.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.
“I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I thought we could catch up on some sleep, honestly.” Naruto’s smile turned apologetic. “No different than the usual y’know.”
“So you're fine? Hinata’s okay?”
“Hey, why are you so interested? Did she say something to you?”
“No.” The blush deepened over Gaara’s face. “I'm just asking. I don't really know how these things are supposed to work.”
“‘These things’? Am I missing something?”
“I don't want to be an imposition. Especially if times are strained as is…” Even Gaara had to admit—he was fidgeting, somewhat. “It wouldn't be fair of me to distract you with my problems when you have your own to deal with,” he said, and gasped after.
Because Naruto had gone right back to crowding up his space, as though magnetized to each other. Their chests touched.
“What problems of my own am I dealing with?” Naruto asked. Curiously and darkly.
“I don't… know…”
More like, Gaara didn’t know what to say, not anymore.
“So, if my conscience is clear, yours will be, too?” Naruto’s mouth ticked up in another incredible smile before he leaned in to nuzzle at Gaara’s hairline. “That makes it easy y’know. I got nothin’ to hide. Do you?”
Gaara shook his head. He brought his hands up to Naruto’s wrists, while Naruto shifted his hands to cradle Gaara’s face. Jade eyes shut, almost on instinct, as Naruto tilted his face up and traced the shape of tired eyelids with sure fingers.
A mint-fruit tinge of sugar clung to the space of their breaths, sweet all over again when Naruto pressed his mouth to Gaara’s, sealed together perfectly. At first, Naruto kissed him slow, letting their skin graze wherever it could and getting reacquainted with each other. Then his bandaged hand meandered down, up and back down Gaara’s side.
Gaara let go of his wrist. Not knowing what else to do, his hand landed on Naruto’s arm.
“Are you okay?” Naruto asked.
“I-It’s just a kiss… What do you mean…?”
“Your face is red, and you're all hot under your clothes.” For all that he was the one asking, Naruto sounded a bit out of breath himself. He didn’t hide it, either; his eyes were dark, even under the night sky. “Your heart’s beating so fast, it almost makes me dizzy.”
“Imagine being in my skin.” Gaara shifted against him. To prove his point, to give an impression of the restlessness going on inside him.
Naruto raised an eyebrow. “Why don't you show me?”
“What…?”
Naruto waited for Gaara to catch up, then eased their mouths back together when it became clear he had, with each of them barricaded against the other under midnight starlight.
Like something out of a dream.
Gaara’s head went up in smoke the moment Naruto’s tongue touched his, trailing after the dream. He shifted back even as he clung closer.
“P-Please, slow down…” His fingers dug into Naruto's arms.
“I thought it was just a kiss?” Naruto said, putting space between them again.
Gaara leaned against the wall at his back. “It is, but with you, that’s never the case.”
Naruto nodded in concession. He really was very, very guilty of getting other people to want what he wanted. He usually only used that power for good.
“I’ll go slow this time,” he said.
“Like you were going slow earlier?” Gaara asked.
“I was thinking slower.” Naruto chuckled, somehow balanced between both a dark and light pitch, a trick he excelled in everything with.
He tilted in close, careful to make sure he had Gaara’s full attention, before touching their foreheads together.
Drifting, Gaara closed his eyes. Easy as that.
Naruto made a soft, sympathetic sound in the back of his throat and shifted again until their noses touched. His skin lent Gaara’s a burning warmth as all the sounds around them settled into silence or something close.
Finally, slowly, Naruto’s mouth touched Gaara’s, closed even when Gaara’s opened. He didn’t come any closer.
A long moment passed—longer than the pause between forehead touch and nose graze—before Gaara gave up and pressed their lips together, meeting Naruto the rest of the way. It went on for a while, simmering as it built. A slow slide.
Naruto was the one to stop this time, his eyes shaded while his smile still shined so bright. The contrast transfixed Gaara a bit.
“Was that slow enough for you?” Naruto asked.
Gaara couldn’t even manage to glare.
***
A few more drinks and several more bowls followed, until together they migrated into Gaara’s room, fell into bed, tangled together, exhausted. When he woke the next morning, Gaara was alone.
He shot texts to Shinki, Kankuro and Matsuri, but dawn hadn’t even broken yet. No one replied. That was fine. He wanted to go back to sleep, anyway.
Between that thought and the next, he decided to text Hinata. Are you awake?
Yes. Do you want to come over?
Yes.
Come.
Her room—hers and Naruto’s—was still dark; sleep-warm. Hinata raised her head and patted the bed.
“Come on.”
Gaara slipped in, hesitating halfway as he reached for her before she grabbed his hand, brought it around her back.
They snuggled together close, a host of soft and soothing smells shared between them, with Gaara tucked under Hinata’s chin, like the most natural thing in the world. Her heartbeat surrounded him.
***
Everyone had obligations for the day, so Gaara walked through town alone while returning messages and trying with absolute desperation not to prod too much into the state of the Sand’s affairs in his absence. Kankuro needled him about it without disclosing any details except “All is great, little brother. Worry about yourself for a change.”
The village had a widespread warmth that connected everything from trees to children. Nothing at all like the Sand’s, which spiked high during the day and disappeared altogether at night. It was the winds that connected everything in Suna. The breeze here swayed softly. Gaara felt it clearing his head as he walked.
Eventually he wandered into the Yamanaka flower shop, out of sudden curiosity and convenience. The bell chirped sharp at his entrance. Bright walls and floors enveloped him, along with the effulgence of flowers. The scent reminded him of Hinata.
Of Neji.
Gaara’s heart stuttered.
Ino chose then to pop up from behind the counter at the front of the shop. “Gaara? Is that you? So good to see you here! Hi!”
Jolted back to reality, Gaara worked to unclench as he approached her. “Hi, Ino, how are you?”
“Fine, I’m fine! How are you? I know there isn’t another conference anytime soon. Have you finally decided to join the village? We can’t wait to have you.” Ino tilted her head a bit when she smiled, holding stem shears to her face (and in that gesture resided her second nature which he also knew well—that of a high-level shinobi accustomed to brandishing weapons with the same comfortable ease as those shears).
Now, Gaara could take a joke with the best of them (which she knew), but his face mustn’t have said as much at the moment because Ino’s eyes peered over his shoulder, and she continued.
“I wasn’t being serious, it’s just curious to see you around without something big going on. I’ll leave you to it now—”
“You’re fine.” Gaara smiled. “You might not be wrong.”
“Hm.” Ino seemed assuaged enough to resume her teasing tone. “Like you’d ever, though.”
Gaara shrugged. “Who knows? There’s always retirement.”
Ino laughed. “What, do it while you're young like Kakashi-sensei? Well, I won’t hold my breath. That guy hasn’t heard the last of it yet, even if he thinks he has.”
“I’m able to leave my village in much more capable hands, though,” he said, thinking of a hundred shinobi as he did. Among them, his three young children.
“Ooh, does Naruto know you feel that way about him?” Ino laughed again, all hot and bright, like a purple-painted sunrise. “Or did you want to get a flower?”
“Actually, I think so.” He hadn’t planned on it, but now that he was here, he may as well.
He cast his gaze around once then reached for a flower from a multicolored bouquet nearby.
“Just this one?” Ino said, reaching for it to wrap up.
“Yeah.”
She handed the single flower back to him, coned in decorative cellophane and bound with a small ribbon. “Here you go. My gift to you.”
“Ino—”
“Please take it. It’s nothing. Besides, it’s for him, right?”
“Him?” Gaara paused. Who did she assume this flower was for…?
Ino blinked seriously, the shears pointed comfortably at her cheek again. “Neji? No?”
As if on reflex, Gaara gentled at that name finally spoken aloud. And she’d said it so affectionately, with such a casual air. Following suit, the weight surrounding that name began to dissipate in his own mind, where he had once let it crush what it was supposed to protect. He blew the dust off it and reconnected a few of the parts that seemed safest.
Among them was the thought that, now that he actually took a second to think about it, it had probably been the case all along that he’d meant to get a flower for Neji’s grave. He had never bought flowers for anyone else from this shop before.
“I’m sorry, I… It didn’t occur to me that I had such a pattern.”
“Or that I’d care enough to pay attention?” Ino laughed again, smaller this time, as their eyes met. “Well, I do. You are my friend, after all. A damn good one. You know, you don’t even always get the same kind of flower, but you do always get ones that mean the same kinds of things. Of course I’d notice something like that after all these years. I think it’s sweet. You're sweet. I love that.”
Her smile shifted to something of a grin.
“So take the flower and a well wish from me when you visit? I would go with you, but I actually have a mission tomorrow and a thousand things to do until I report.”
Gaara, for an instant, thought of Naruto, the way Ino filled out what Gaara left empty in the conversation, all with unmatched aplomb. Even more so in Ino’s case since she proved far more intuitive at such things.
“Thank you,” he told her. “I’ll take care of your wish.”
“Thanks! You’re a gift, Gaara. Come by for a meal or something, sometime; Sai and I would love to go on a date with you soon. It’s been too long since the last time.” Ino made her way towards the back room, still brandishing the shears flippantly.
“Of course. I'll get back with you about that shortly.”
“All right! See ya!” She waved on her way out.
Gaara took the flower, filled with all the good and caring words Ino had just blessed him with, and set off towards the cemetery. He was calm as he walked, locked in thought, flower in-hand.
The cemetery came into view a dash of blue stretched across the grassy green roll of hills.
***
Afternoon approached in shades of amber; Gaara stopped at a tea house for dumplings and green tea. Anything else would probably upset his stomach. Perhaps the humidity had gotten to him. He made sure to order a water (with lemon) as well.
Afterward, seeing as how he had no immediate plans, he wandered up the main village road. The muffled sounds of a crowd, of excitement, reached his ears eventually, which he traced to Lee’s dojo. That explained the thuds, grunts and “hyah!” he heard every so often.
He might be cutting it close, as far as verve was concerned, but since he’d spent the morning alone, Gaara wanted to check in with Lee. As with everyone else, it had been awhile since they last spoke in any unofficial capacity. Lee’s vibrancy never failed to inspire.
The closer he came to the dojo, the more he noticed the amount of energy that emanated from it. Hectic energy.
Stepping inside, he saw why.
A crowd crested beneath Rock Lee and Naruto Uzumaki’s shadow clone fighting hand-to-hand all over the dojo. Hardly a safe situation for those watching were it not for those two keeping ever mindful of their surroundings, and holding back as appropriate. They were moving fast around the dojo in efforts of being more flashy than explicitly practical. A bit of a show, in fact. Murmurs traveled through onlookers who hadn’t seen their top taijutsu user—not to mention their Hokage—spar, rarely, if ever.
The sight seemed a callback to old times for Gaara. A wish of two unrestrained forces, Naruto and Lee, who fought all over the place, smiles on their faces. A show, indeed. They were having fun.
Gaara crossed his arms and observed from the shadows, unnoticed next to the entrance.
The level of their taijutsu never exceeded C-rank, but that proved more than enough between such powerful shinobi as Naruto and Lee. They darted around, elbows blocking elbows, shins crossing shins, despite having different techniques. They were like flashes of light clashing in the forest—the spark that jumped off two kunai in luminous arcs at the point of collision. Cheers swept the dojo, with overwhelming support in favor of both fighters, as expected.
Gaara watched as they danced together a while longer before coming to an orchestrated draw. Everyone applauded, himself no exception if briefly.
Suddenly, Lee caught his eye. Gaara expected to hear his name shouted clear as day over the crowd, and hiked his shoulders a bit with consternation, to brace for impact.
It never came.
A swirling thumb pad and shining tooth sparkle peered through the people gathered, instead. Next to it, Naruto grinned in his own foxlike way.
Gaara shook his head, sighing, as he had escaped widespread notice for the afternoon, and acknowledged Naruto’s signal to meet on the roof. A flick of the eyes revealed Lee to be in on it, as well. Through throngs of fans coming up to shake his and Naruto’s hands, Lee assured Gaara of their rendezvous.
They met on the roof minutes later. It was quieter up there. Windier. Lee and Naruto’s faces shone with the sweat from their display match.
“You found me! Gaara!” Lee wrapped both strong arms around Gaara while Naruto stood by, as unhelpful as possible.
To Gaara’s surprise, once Lee put him down, Naruto stepped up to him, placed both hands on his shoulders, and wrapped him in a hug, too. His heart must have skipped, shaken, soared against theirs, but no one said anything about it. Maybe the pounding of their own hearts masked his.
He discovered himself the recipient of both their attention in no time at all. What to do with it?
“That was quite the performance,” he said.
Lee postured himself with his fists at his hips. “I am glad to hear you enjoyed it, Gaara! Besides, as the village depends on the strength of the people, I like to keep its most important person’s youth protected!” He pointed to his chest—an impressive shape, out of necessity, emphasized by the suit’s fabric stretched tight across it. “We all know how important hard work is, but too much makes one’s will go stale. Is that not right, Naruto?”
Naruto pulled his arm across his chest in a light stretch. “I feel loads better, yeah.” He smirked. “It's also a great way to generate a little excitement for the younger ones, I think.”
“Yes! The youth of the future!”
“I see. Well, it’s good to see the two of you,” Gaara said.
“I could say the same to you. It has been a long time since I have been with the both of you,” Lee said.
“Heh heh,” Naruto said.
“Forgive me,” Gaara said.
“Oh, I was not placing blame on either of you. We have left our lives as simple shinobi behind long ago even though that is what we truly are.” Lee took hold of his orange border-patterned neckwarmer in contemplation.
“Well, thank you.” Gaara paused. “You two don’t have to get back to your villagers down there?”
The numbers below had begun to disperse once Lee and Naruto disappeared earlier. Most of the stragglers lingered out front where Gaara could observe them from the ledge of the roof. He didn’t even need to infuse chakra to do it.
“It is fine. We have done this kind of thing before,” Lee said.
“Not me, y’know!” Naruto said.
“No, you are right. It is rare for our Hokage—even a clone—to have time for such things. Tenten, Hinata, Shino and others have all helped me in the past. This is a first for you, Naruto.”
Hinata!
Naruto and Gaara’s eyes met across the roof on something like reflex. It seemed neither of them knew anything about Hinata duking it out with Rock Lee in his dojo during her free time. Thinking about it, though…
Gaara, at least, wouldn’t put it past her, and he couldn’t see Naruto doing much of the same.
“It really has been too long,” Naruto said, already sounding polite and rehearsed, “but I have more of that hard work to get back to. Lee, amazing as always seeing you.” He grinned (wide, tired), hand extended for Lee to take.
Lee’s face was suddenly serious as he reciprocated. “I am only too honored, Lord Hokage!” That customary intensity of his—signs of his passion and power—welled in his fist, clenched against the gathering of small tears at the corners of his eyes. A sight that would turn any other shinobi into a laughing stock and often had with this one in the past.
However, Rock Lee hit a point in his adolescence where fierce tears against an even fiercer sunset no longer looked ridiculous but, conversely, rigorous. Full of vigor and vitality to exalt. Now, whenever he cried, it did something like move mountains.
A few seconds and traded smiles later, Naruto’s clone dispersed, and Lee turned to Gaara.
“Well, Gaara? How about it? Do you want to accompany me to the hot springs?” Lee asked. He still wore his cheeky grin.
Gaara couldn’t think of a single reason to say no.
***
How did the people of the Leaf tolerate living here? Heat and humidity all day and night and at the hot springs?
Well, at least at the hot springs, Gaara could relax to the maximum capacity. Especially with Lee chatting him up at his side. (Okay, but he loved Lee, but who said such things out loud with no apparent reason and at the hot springs, no less?) In fact, having Lee around was a comfort. He hoped he could be at least a little bit of that for Lee, too.
Gaara’s shoulders slackened against smooth dark rocks at his back as the heat of the water encouraged him to get lost in ruminations. Lee’s voice next to him filled his head one syllable at a time even after Gaara closed his eyes. He was still paying attention.
They were close and alone—a fact that lulled Gaara as much as it excited him—as evening closed in.
“So,” Lee said when skin and sky grew dusky, “do you feel like eating, Gaara?”
The expression on his face read danger, read keep away, but Gaara knew better.
Furthermore, he knew what that meant.
(He stole a second then to notice, for the first time, how Lee pronounced his name with such frequency and respect but also fondness…)
“I don’t suppose it’s in my best interest to say no, is it?” Gaara said. He got eye contact.
Lee inched even closer, his eyes lit like the moon. “It is not!”
“I’m in your hands, then… Rock Lee.”
“I will not let you down, I am certain! I would not steer you wrong, Gaara!”
“I know, Lee.”
“Let us go right now.”
“Are you done soaking?”
“I will wait if you want me to, but yes I am done.”
“No, I’m okay. Besides, I guess I am hungry.” Stirred at the mention, Gaara’s stomach pinched. Not quite hard enough to growl, though, even if Lee’s proposition of dinner began to sound appealing.
They rose from the water together and headed back inside to get dressed. Lee chattered on about training with Tenten that Gaara promised himself to come by the dojo again to watch before he left because who in their right mind would miss that opportunity; then Lee grabbed Gaara’s hand and led him down a series of corridors to a low-key, sit-down restaurant.
Lights turned about a quarter down lent ambience to the place, and Lee sat right away. Someone on the waitstaff greeted him from afar as he guided Gaara to sit as well.
They faced each other across a modest wooden table for two, a single flower with spare saucers between them, Lee’s face as warm as the weather even missing its customary grin. He folded his arms over the edge of the table.
“I did say I am ordering your meal for you, but there is a menu if you would like anything else at all, of course,” he said.
Gaara checked himself over mentally. “Just a water. And maybe some cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh, to take home, yes? I will make sure to let them know.”
Before Gaara could defend himself—or even figure out what exactly he wanted to defend himself from—a server arrived with all the familiarity and comfortability of a relative come to take their order, and Lee responded in kind.
Naruto always said he thought of the people in his village as family, but it still somehow managed to surprise Gaara when he witnessed that philosophy extend through to the villagers themselves when he got like this. He’d lived through such times as when villagers rejected people like him—abhorred Naruto, abused Gaara, abased Lee, every chance they got, it seemed, and for so, so long. Respect replaced the antipathy at different stages along the way, but they’d each had to work so hard for it, and now the seamless smiles, the sense of coming back to a space known to always be filled…
Gaara blinked.
The server had gone.
And Lee’s grin had returned.
“It will not be as spicy here as I prefer it, but I think it will do for you, Gaara. If not, we may have to take a trip.”
“No need, Lee. I promise.”
“Hmmm. I suppose I will have to take your word for it. Also, well, Gaara… You have been by to see Temari, right?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “Did she say something to you? She’s always saying something to someone.”
“She is your big sister.”
“She is a worrywart.”
“That is also true, but we are only trying to make sure you are okay, Gaara. We know you like to take on a lot alone and keep so quiet about it. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m okay.”
“You will be,” Lee said, that smile snapping to life again, “just you wait, Gaara.”
Their drink orders arrived—Lee got a water, as well—so the topic shifted to safer shores until, not long after that, their dinners came to the table, too.
A plate of rice smothered in thick, dark curry with all kinds of vegetables, spices and meat.
Gaara hadn’t been feeling up to a full portion—and he still didn’t think he could put away this half-order—but the sight enticed him no less.
Lee knew him well.
Rather… maybe it was the thought of Lee’s intentions (and how well he knew Lee, too) that increased his appetite, even just that little bit.
Perhaps a bit of both.
Lee’s evil scheme, announced as it had been, was working. He picked up his spoon and got to work on his own food, unconcerned if Gaara ever did the same but transparently hopeful, of course.
Gaara didn’t feel pressured. He felt only hunger.
He picked up his spoon and dug in, too.
***
The night air filled with the sound of Lee’s laugh as he walked Gaara back home afterward, very much like the blessing he knew it to be. It passed right through Gaara’s ears, sank so far into him that the darkness of his depression struggled, for the moment, to cling to his consciousness.
“Thank you for the excellent night,” Lee said at the doorstep.
“I should be the one thanking you. I mean that, Lee.” Suddenly, Gaara didn’t want to part from him. “Would you like to come in?”
Lee winked. “Another time, Gaara. I have to pick up Metal. Will you come by to see him before you go?”
“Of course.”
“It is a date, then! I will look forward to it!”
“Me, too.”
“I had better get home now. I love you, Gaara. Have a restful night, okay?” Lee took Gaara’s free hand in both of his, raised it halfway to meet him as he bowed and pressed his lips to the back of Gaara’s knuckles before returning it to Gaara’s side, stepping back, following the path that led outside the gate leaving the Uzumaki residence.
Of course, Gaara was so stunned, it took several seconds to process what all had just happened, and by the time he did, Lee had already vanished.
***
Himawari and Boruto were turned in for the most part—the clock read 10:00pm—but Hinata welcomed Gaara home with a clear gaze.
“I was going to watch a movie if you feel like joining me?” she said, curled up on the couch.
After the day he’d had, that actually sounded perfect.
“Please,” he said. The hand Lee hadn’t kissed lifted to bring into view the carryout cinnamon rolls they’d ordered alongside their dinner. “Also, this is for you. Maybe have it as a movie snack.”
“Absolutely. Come on over here.” Hinata had a blanket over her which she flicked aside to make room for Gaara.
He found it a perfect metaphor for the past few days. Or… even more than that, if he were being honest…
Hinata’s eyes grew hesitant. “No?”
Gaara got it together before he ended up offending her further.
They fit in perfect against each other on the couch, the thin press of clothes between them. The close contact seemed more consistent than in the past, but he was thankful for it—Hinata didn’t mind at all, for instance, that he kept his head tucked into her side while she picked at the cinnamon rolls with her fingers. She was soft in some places, hard in others, warm all over and traced the shell of his ear as they watched their movie. Fidgeted a few times beneath his weight, guided him slow into dreams.
Everything went grey and quiet in lulls then all at once.
***
The next morning saw to a few things:
Kankuro and Shinki both had felt the individual need to try and tell him an old friend of his had come back into town and disparaged the fact that they’d missed the chance to talk to him last night, but Gaara had passed right out against Hinata on the couch.
He’d still been there when he woke up. Hinata hadn’t. An hour spent under the early sun out back while he returned their (and other) missed messages distracted him from that.
With everything settled, Gaara returned to the kitchen, unsurprised at the surge of voices that came from inside. He passed his fingers through hair sticking out everywhere on his head, laced as much of it away from his face as he could, behind both ears. The light in the kitchen was low, and revealed two friends’ decidedly unsmiling faces alongside Hinata.
“Good morning,” she said, catching his eye briefly. Hers glittered. “Food’s on the table if you want some. Shino’s treat today.”
Gaara looked at Shino, who didn’t seem at all untoward despite his neutral expression (what of it could be seen with that mask over his eyes). It was actually for that reason that Gaara liked to talk to Shino—it never cost him much, and yet he always got so much in return, because they rarely bothered with extraneous, unneeded gestures or expressions.
“Not home made, I hope,” Gaara said. He washed his hands and made himself a helping.
Karui stood at the stove with him as he did. She didn’t so much smile at him as gentle toward him when they caught each other’s attention.
“Not this time,” she said, “but we’ve had to suffer through that before. Consider yourself spared.”
“My cooking is edible,” Shino said.
“Shino can make a meal,” Hinata said.
“It will just be bland as hell,” Karui said. Grabbed a muffin and peeled back its sleeve.
“True,” Hinata said. Shino had no comeback.
“I think I’d try it anyway,” Gaara said, mouth full.
“He says that now.” Karui sipped at her tea.
Hinata weighed in again. “Meals made with love taste better by default, though. Everyone knows that. In which case, Shino definitely wins. Wouldn’t you agree, Gaara?”
His mouth was full again, but he nodded in accord.
“If you two say so…” Shino tilted his face down, kept his voice even. Likely to hide the shy smile that had crept up on his face alongside a glowing blush at the turn in conversation. Gaara liked to keep his eyes on that kind of candidness.
The expression vanished when Shino’s phone went off and he scrambled to answer it. Reading the name on the screen, he excused himself to the other side of the room, putting his back to everyone else to speak into the phone quietly.
Gaara looked at Karui, who shook her head, then Hinata, who giggled. Neither were answers to his question, so he refocused on finishing his food before he ran out of appetite.
“Well,” Karui said. “Talk to me, friend. Where have you been keeping yourself?” She migrated around to the living room to join Hinata on the couch, perching on the arm with legs crossed. “Must the queen hide herself away, hmm?”
“I don’t hide, Karui,” Hinata said, smiling. Their tones were sheer and blithe. “I have two incredible, impossible children to raise—and train when I’m not raising. I don’t want or need to be anywhere else right now.”
Karui laughed. “Right! Every time Chocho goes on a mission, she comes back asking to learn a new jutsu. Between Choji and me, we’re running out of clan hidden arts and village specialities.”
Surprising himself, Gaara said, “Maybe it’s time for her to find a sensei of her own.”
Karui rested her face in a hand. Her gold eyes glinted in the light of the room around them as they flicked over to Gaara. “Yeah, we’ve been thinking the same thing. Now if we could just come to an agreement.”
“Oh?” Hinata lowered the book in her hands.
“Well, yeah! I want her to train under my master because Lord Bee is the only one I could ever trust with my daughter, but Choji doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to leave home for so long to train alone, of course…”
Hinata and Karui went back and forth for a short while before Shino finished his conversation and returned.
“Sorry, everyone, that was Sumire. I have to go.” He paused to take Gaara’s hand into both of his in apology. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together. Hopefully I get to see you again before you go, but if not, it’s been a pleasure.”
For some reason, Gaara’s face flushed hot all over. He averted his eyes. “Thank you, Shino. Have a good day.”
That was a bit of an odd thing for him to have said, but, well… he’d said it. May as well own it.
Gaara lifted his gaze—and, instead of the confusion he’d expected, found a smile waiting on Shino’s face.
“I will. You do, too.”
Things remained quiet until Hinata stood from the chair. “Shino, let me walk you out.”
“Thank you, Hinata. See you later, Karui.” They left.
“Sumire?” Gaara asked Karui.
“Mm, she’s a genin in the kids’ class, if I remember right. There was an incident a few years back that interested Shino in adopting her.”
“Adopting—?”
“Yeah, Sumire’s his daughter.”
“I had no idea.”
“Well, it’s not that surprising. It was kinda very closely tied to a village incident. In-house business. You know what I mean.”
He had no reason to know. He wasn’t Hidden Leaf. He was Kazekage of the Sand. For all intents and purposes, an outsider in this scenario, regardless of his relationships with their extended leadership.
“But get this—I swear, he’s all of our kids’ dad, at this point—you know Mitsuki, right? The Sound ninja that’s taken a liking to our humble home?”
“The sage user.”
“Right. One-fourth of Team 7, Konohamaru’s kids. Well, when he first transferred here, he’d been staying at some small shack all by himself with barely running water and electricity just outside the village. As soon as Shino found out, Mitsuki’s been living with him ever since. It was a lot more fun than I’ll admit to his face getting phone calls in the middle of the night about what to do with awkward and emotional schoolchildren.” Karui laughed behind her hand even as she talked about it. “He’s helpless, you really should see him with the two of them running him ragged. It’s great.”
Gaara returned a chuckle on reflex. It felt really, really okay. “It sounds familiar. Can't say I don’t empathize.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Her eyes flashed, in that mesmerizing way they had.
“Plus one more, though I planned for it well in advance of Shino which… makes a difference.”
“A hell of one.”
Hinata’s voice rose from the doorway as she rejoined them. “At least I’m not the only one who got those phone calls.”
“Not anymore, though. Thankfully he got the picture after the first couple years. Not too surprisingly, he's actually taken to fatherhood like a fish to water,” Karui said, taking Hinata’s hand when she walked by.
They folded in on each other briefly, Hinata between Karui’s knees where she perched on the arm of the couch, with an air of charm around them, all smiles.
“I think I’m going to go, too. Will you walk me to the door, too, please?” asked Karui.
“Of course.” Hinata gripped her hand tighter then glanced at Gaara. “I’ll be right back.”
“A pleasure as always seeing you,” Karui said to him, passing by. “You don’t hide yourself too much either, prince. We care about you around here. I’m sure Shino would’ve told you the same if his little girl hadn’t called. He always gets so scrambled trying to help his kids. Well, take care.” Waving, she left with Hinata.
The kitchen seemed quiet with just him in it.
Soon, Hinata returned.
“Sorry about that, Gaara. We used to meet up more regularly, but it had been a while, so when I woke up and they were both here, I felt terrible turning them away. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Not at all. This is your home. Of course I don't mind. Besides, it was nice. It’s—” He stopped to take a breath. Hunted for eye contact. “It’s been nice, catching up with everyone, and staying here with you and the family,” he said, as seriously—as sincerely—as he could. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for everything. I don’t know if it’s possible, to be honest, but I did want to make the attempt, anyway.”
“Stop that.”
“I meant it.”
Hinata sighed. “I know.” She outstretched her hand for Gaara to take and pulled him to his feet when he did. “We’re happy to have you. Really. Naruto and I have both missed you a lot. You look better, too. Less tired. It looks good on you.”
“Do you think so?” He hadn't noticed much himself, but come to think of it…
“Some quality time spent with friends will ease even the heaviest burden, if only a little. It doesn't cure anything, but it helps a hardened heart to breathe a bit easier, I believe.” Hinata's eyes were steady as they studied him then narrowed as they closed over her smile. “Don't you think?”
There was something in her voice, a familiarity and sure-footedness discussing something so personal that people usually didn't like to talk so freely about (for some reason), that instantly captured Gaara’s attention. He traced the lines of her face with his eyes, trying to find what it was that bothered him about that.
No—not bothered. Interested? Worried?
The silence went on and on while he tried to parse it out.
She didn't push for anything more.
“Hinata…” Gaara paused. “Forgive me for not asking sooner, but… how are you doing? Are you okay?”
It had been four days since he’d arrived in the village, and he hadn't even bothered to ask.
As he said the words, he tried to imagine what kind of burdens Hinata might be shouldering alone while easing everyone else's. He had ideas, but it's not something they had discussed often or recently—and making assumptions about someone else’s past, their pain, was never in him to begin with.
Her expression went neutral after a few seconds. Her fists clenched. “I'm doing well, thanks for asking.”
“That's not it. I mean, are you really?” he asked again.
“I'm not lying, I just…” Resolve sparked in her eyes then. “You don't need to deal with my problems on top of your own. They're trivial at best,” she said, and then smiled. Compared to her earlier smile, this one looked significantly sadder.
Slowly he drew his hands out of hers, dropping to her waist. “Now, if I tried to say that to you, I know you wouldn't accept that.”
She laughed, though weakly. “That's true.”
His laugh answered hers. “So, if you need to talk, you can talk to me. I'm here right now. You can't scare me off.”
Some of the tension in the air simmered.
Hinata leaned forward against Gaara but stopped short when they touched. “It’s really not that big a deal. And it's only been really bothering me again the past few months. I keep waiting for it to go away on its own. I don't know…”
Gaara waited.
“There are these—nightmares I have, these bad memories. I'm sure every shinobi who's seen battle has them, and it was fine when it was just that, but… Listen to me, I'm not even making sense. Can we go upstairs?”
Somewhere secluded, less exposed, than the bright sunlit space surrounding them right now. They went to the room, sat on the edge of the bed together. The curtains were half-drawn.
As she told it, between Boruto’s penchant for finding trouble on nearly every mission, Himawari’s genius with her Byakugan pulling on so many reminders of Neji and worrying over how much stress Naruto put himself through daily, long-forgotten dreams were getting tangled up with old realities in more and more confusing ways lately. Her family had changed so much since her loveless childhood that it became easy to replace the bad past with the present good and leave out all the rest. The loneliness always remained, though; it instantly connected every heartache she'd endured (literal and figurative) with needlessly anxiety-induced fear for her children suffering the same. Ancient terror twisted up and screwed loose, that's all. She couldn't hold it together all the time, that's all. See? Not a big deal, really.
Gaara recognized a lot of his own attempts at invalidation in each one of hers. Every time he wanted to give himself a hard time, he told himself those same dismissive rationalizations. He made sure she knew those weren't true before he did anything else, and then they talked briefly on the rest until they were both calm again.
There really wasn't any telling what the time was anymore, but once when Hinata laughed at a lame joke, she flinched back, softly and worrying.
Gaara’s smile dissolved. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
“No, uh, I'm fine! I'm just…” Her voice went high and glassy in a way that it hadn't since she was a teenager. She pulled her knees closer together.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything,” Gaara said, beginning to withdraw.
She stopped him with both hands before he even moved. “What? No, please, stay. It's nothing at all that you did, Naruto came home last night.”
It sank in suddenly, all at once.
“I'm, um, tired, is all.”
“That's all?” He raised his brow.
Hinata stopped, in a moment that Gaara swore froze in time, and she pushed at his shoulder when she figured out his tone. “What, did you want to hear me say that I'm sore?”
“As long as I'm not the one who hurt you,” he said, serious again.
“No, not at all…” Their hands tightened around each other. “I actually feel really good right now, because of that. He was able to stay for a while and I’m pretty sure I slept so soundly, I drooled on him. It's always better when he's around—he can protect everyone else while I can protect him, when he's here. It's where he's safest so everything else is safe, too. That probably doesn't even make sense, does it? Never mind me.”
“Well,” he said, thinking it through quickly, “I would say the same thing. You know how he'll act in any scenario, so you want to be there beside him, walk with him when everyone else is behind him… Yeah, I think I understand pretty well. You make perfect sense to me, Hinata.”
“Thanks for not thinking I'm strange.”
“Oh, I definitely think you're strange, just not because of that.”
“Hush.”
“No, I am happy you have ways to make it better, though. Itfeels good, right?”
“It does.” She laughed. “He was in a really good mood, too. I'm surprised you didn't wake up before we went to bed. Oh, and I think you should go see him again.”
“Me? Why?”
“He didn't say anything, but he looked so happy to see you sleeping there with me. It’s those eyes of his, you know? You have time, don't you?”
“I… don't see why not.”
“Thank you for listening to my silly nightmares. I don't usually have so much trouble keeping my head above water.”
“Well, you can only deal with so much yourself, like you've been telling me, right? And I didn't find them silly, so…”
Hinata's breathing deepened as she put a hand to her chest. “I feel so much better now.”
“Good.” Gaara smiled. “So do I, actually.”
“Oh! Good, I'm glad.” She placed his hands around her back to draw them in together.
They hugged each other, warm and relieved, until flashes of sunlight curled around the curtain edges. Pulling back, Hinata glanced at the clock on the wall before she faced Gaara again.
“Listen, I have to go drop off Himawari with Hanabi in a bit. Do you want to go on a date afterward?”
“A date? With me?”
Faintly, she blushed. “Like a lunch date. I'll treat you.”
It was Gaara's turn to blush. “It would be my pleasure, of course, but didn’t you just tell me to go see Naruto?”
“It won’t kill him to wait.”
“You have a point.” His brain was working again, at the same time as his mouth. “In that case, I hope it won't be too much of a bother, but I think I’ll be a bit busier for the rest of my time here. I don’t want all my promises to be written off for next time.”
“You say that as though you haven’t been busy this whole time, already.”
“Have I, really? I don’t feel like I’ve been doing anything.”
“What? People all over the village have been coming up to me while I’m in town talking about how you’re everywhere. Someone thought you were here on a diplomatic mission, at first. It’s adorable. You can’t see yourself the way that everyone else does, but you’ve been doing plenty, Gaara. I can promise you that much.”
What had he done since coming to the Leaf?
Picked up by Hinata. Visited Temari and Shikamaru. Then those lively old men, Kakashi, Guy, Iruka and Yamato. Spent the night with Naruto. Then Hinata. Ran into Ino on the way to see Neji. Found and went out with Lee. Karui and Shino had kind of happened to him…
Well, it hadn’t felt like he was doing anything with his time, but perhaps he wasn’t as clueless as he thought he was at navigating his daily life. He did run a village, after all, with a title equivalent to that of the Feudal Lord of the Land of Wind, severe depressive episode or no.
Or maybe, if he took two fucking seconds to think about it, he would’ve realized sooner that his shoulders didn’t feel as heavy, and his heart didn’t cramp at the very thought of living his life—it in fact reacted very warmly to the notion of being close to Hinata, going on a date with Naruto, with Ino and Sai, with Lee and Metal and all those other future obligations he had just sort of given in to, expecting himself to run out of steam long before he fulfilled any of them…
Oh, boy. He sighed.
“Hinata? Thank you again. I think I forgot what it was like to be able to breathe on the other side of all that sadness. I haven’t been able to escape it for a while now.”
“Yeah, but… that's not everything that's weighing on you, is it?” She softened as she smiled again. Gaara discovered that it was actually an answer to the smile on his own face when her hand came up to his cheek, wiping fast-flowing tears away.
He pulled her in closer as he cried. The only thing that stopped him was the sudden, pressing reminder that they were on a timetable here.
“Himawari!” he gasped, drawing back. “Right?”
Hinata laughed. “If you still feel up to it.”
“I do. I’d love that. Come on, we should get ready before she shows up to hurry us up.”
***
They beat Himawari downstairs by seconds, her backpack strapped to her shoulders as she descended, and she held Gaara’s hand while they walked together to the Hyuga clan compound.
The trees outside the heavy gate cast speckles of shade across the ground. Konoha’s warmth always felt like a dream, soft, rarely stinging; much like Hanabi’s voice when she greeted them outside.
“Long time, no see, Lord Kazekage,” she said, receiving Himawari, who went right away to prepare for training. “I’m happy to hear you aren't here on business.”
“Fortunately not this time.”
“You should come by and let me cook for you, if you have the time.” She shifted to look at Hinata. “You, too. I miss you, Big Sis. You have all the time in the world for Kurenai and Tenten and Kiba and who even knows, everyone else, but none for me anymore. What’s with that?” Even as much as she meant the words, she said them with a smile that shone.
In another rare show of leftover childhood shyness, Hinata’s face briefly glowed rose. “That’s not true, but okay…”
“Joking, joking! Jeez, that’s how you know it’s been too long. Right, Gaara?” Hanabi turned bright eyes on him.
Gaara said, “I think dinner sounds like a good idea.”
“Oh, really? Don’t let me intrude on you guys’ plans, of course.”
“I think we have ourselves a date. I’ll let Boruto know so that he can wash up here when he comes to pick up Hima, and they can leave with us after dinner. Okay?” Hinata said.
“Yay! Are you serious? I can’t wait, I’ve missed you so much, Big Sis!” Hanabi threw her arms out and Hinata caught her in a hug that radiated affection and adoration.
As the youngest sibling of an older brother and sister who had suffered greatly—silently—on their behalf, Gaara could understand Hanabi completely. She and Hinata had been so close for so long and their relationship had only strengthened after the War…
Hanabi withdrew after a moment, arms crossed over her chest, a super-cool Hyuga elite. “Well, it’s time I got to work. Don’t forget to tell Boruto or he’ll think I’m kidnapping him.”
“You mean again?” Hinata said, taking Gaara’s hand on their way out. “You can get your own kids if you want them, you know, Hanabi.”
“I know. That’s why Moegi and I adopted. There’s six of them between us!” Hanabi said after them.
Gaara almost choked, but Hinata laughed. “Take care of Hima.”
“I always do. Later, you two. Have a good day together.” Hanabi parted with a wink.