Collapsed onto a wooden bench in the KU biology lab, the only thing that kept Kiba from giving into the seductive oblivion of sleep was the cluster of birds, cooing and calling outside the large, tree-framed windows.

The loud, raucous shrill of birdsong that penetrated the inside of his skull might have been pleasant under other circumstances. But, the boy’s crumpled dress clothes, the acidic scent of alcohol on his breath, and dark smudges underneath each eye indicated a night of aimlessly wandering the campus and a failed attempt to drown his pain.

The only comfort reaching Kiba’s too tired body came from the small ball of heat and fur, curled up on the inside of his suit coat.

At least, I still have Akamaru.

With a slight groan and a loosening of muscles, the troubled young man thumped down onto the lab table. Shafts of sunlight had barely begun to creep their way through the windows, and yet the room already began to heat.

Figures, it’s going to be a beautiful day. I can’t believe I actually showed up for this thing. Bet, that lazy ass woman doesn’t even make an appearance.

Kiba continued snarling and gnashing his teeth for awhile, bemoaning the fact that his Veterinary Medicine major required Biology 105 and that it was taught by Godaime Tsunade, the buxom, ball-busting dean of Sciences.

Who makes their students do extra lab work on a Saturday?

The more the young man filled his mind with distractions and complaints, the easier it was to forget why he hadn’t showered this morning or why he’d finished that entire bottlehe’d found in his sister, Hana’s, refrigerator last night.

Having arrived at the classroom a good thirty minutes early, Kiba had expected painful solitude, where he could let his angst roam free before the lab commenced. So, he was a little startled to see the door knob begin to turn after only five minutes of piteous whining.

In the doorway, hair of the deepest dark brown was raised in a large spiky brush, whose soft texture belied its appearance. Opaque, circular sunglasses rested upon a young man’s nose, covering kind eyes of a faint, honeyed amber. Paper-white skin and a bulky gray trench coat protected most of the brunette’s body, like the glasses shielded his eyes.

Why did it have to be him?

A mixture of embarrassment, sorrow, and envy flooded the wild young man’s senses.

How do you tell one of your two best friends that you’ve ruined everything?

Watching Shino make the torturous journey through metal stools and discarded equipment, Kiba felt the envy rise in the back of his throat, threatening to choke him.

Especially, when he still gets to see her everyday.

Feeling the delicate rub of Akamaru nosing into his stomach grounded the boy’s passions.

It was not Shino’s fault that Kiba had lost control and kissed Hinata. It wasn’t Shino’s fault that Hinata was, obviously, not in love with Kiba. It wasn’t Shino’s fault that a combination of pride and regret was going to keep Kiba from being the kind of friend that he should be, supporting the beautiful Hyuuga in all of her choices and working through the awkwardness of their present situation.

Great. Now, I’m just depressed again, the tousled young man thought with a grunt.

Turning to face Shino, Kiba found himself being examined rather thoroughly. The black frames gave away nothing, and the too tired young man was unsure of what he should say. The state of his clothing, the scent lingering about his person, the bulge of Akamaru around his waist, Kiba felt as though his stupidity was so readily obvious.

How am I going to explain?

His thoughts were interrupted by the purposeful movement of the other boy’s right hand, as he removed his sunglasses. A rare occurrence, Kiba was a little shocked.

Until he looked into his best friend’s eyes, seeing his own pain mirrored back at him.

You, too?

Silently replacing his shades, Shino sat down next to the other boy, giving him an awkward, one-armed hug in the process.

Unable to end his best friend’s suffering, the stoic, trench-coated youth chose to share it.

And so, the two boys sat in the empty lab, both hopelessly in love with a girl that would never see them as anything but her dearest friends.

Still, the birds were chirping, and the sun was shining, and Kiba wasn’t alone anymore.

Gazing out those thick, dust-covered windows, he thought, it really is going to be gorgeous outside, today. I wonder, if Akamaru wants to go to the park after class.

---------------------------------------------------

“Geez, Asuma, why in the hell do we have to play out here? It’s too damn hot.”

Sweat trickled down the tanned boy’s temples, as he slid his lance over to capture one of his advisor’s pawns. Shikamaru’s fingers left behind a faint damp shadow on the shogi piece.

“You need to get out more, Shikamaru. Fresh air is good for a person, particularly when that person has a full class schedule and obligations that keep him from seeing the outside world for days at a time,” Asuma declared, stopping to take a deep drag on the ever-present cigarette loosely held by the index and middle fingers of his right hand.

Then, with a slight chuckle, the bearded man continued, “Plus, my office doesn’t have air conditioning. You think it’s bad out here…”

“Mendoukusai.”

A salty residue from dried sweat combined with fresh perspiration collecting beneath the dark-haired youth’s dreadlocked ponytail caused him to be both itchy and irritable. A lack of sleep the past two nights contributed to the irritable portion, bringing with it some added exhaustion and annoyance.

Moving one of his generals after a few moments deliberation, Asuma took note of his student’s increased agitation and like all good teachers, tried to ignore it.

“Sigh.”

Which was made more difficult due to the number of times the tanned boy exhaled dramatically, quickly moved a shogi piece, and leaned on his hands, face smushed up, waiting for Asuma to take his turn.

Trying to be nonchalant, the dark, bearded man inquired in a half joking, half serious tone, “So, are you going to tell me why you look like your dog just died after your girl ran off with your best friend, or am I supposed to guess?”

“Hmph.”

“Hmph, huh? That’s all I get?”

“I don’t have a dog…or a girl.”

Sometimes Shikamaru’s sarcasm made Asuma want to wring the boy’s scrawny little neck.

Kid better thank his lucky stars that I enjoy his company. And that my dad would kill me, if I took out one of his college’s students.

Clearing the slight rise of anger from his throat, he tried again, “So, classes how are they going?”

Shrugging noncommittally, Shikamaru acquired one of his advisor’s knights as he answered, “I go.”

“Ahhh, that’s good, I guess,” scratching at his beard, Asuma felt a bit lost. Normally, the kid was a little bit more giving than this.

Looks like I’ll just have to be blunt about it, then.

“Listen, what are you doing here, Shikamaru?”

“Playing shogi.”

“No-you know what I mean. Your entrance essays were excited and interested in starting a new life. They were a large part of the reason you got into this college. But, it’s only been a week, and you seem even more miserable and discontent than ever. Is it the class schedule, too much hard work, not enough fun?”

Vacant eyes peering at Asuma, Shikamaru continued to play the game. Moving a shogi piece, the slim youth answered his advisor with a question, “Fun?”

Smiling a little to himself as he remembered the fun he’d had in college, Asuma explained, gesturing with his cigarette, “Hanging out with friends, parties, dating, the whole college experience.”

If it was possible for a person to increase the utter blankness of an already empty stare, Shikamaru could have given Gaara a run for his money with the vapid look he shot at his advisor.

Trying not to let himself become resigned to his student’s lack of ambition or excitement, Asuma hastily maneuvered his queen and went on, letting disapproval work its way into his voice, “ So, you’re just going to sleep away college like you napped through high school. Going to forget about all those great ideas and newfound interests and just slip back into the day to day job of existing. Great plan, Shikamaru. Really. I’d forgotten how smart you were.”

The tanned boy’s eyes widened a little at the unexpected anger in his advisor’s tone, but the look was quickly replaced by one of sarcastic condescension, “And getting wasted with my buddy on the weekend, screwing around, that’s really living?” Moving his queen to the far end for a promotion, Shikamaru turned up the cynicism, “If that’s what life is supposed to be like than I’d rather just sleep through it all. Thank you.”

“Well, how would you know?” Full lips closed over a newly lit cigarette, while Asuma stubbed out the old butt in a nearby ashtray. The bearded man sagged a little in pleasure, as he took the first drag.

Eyes heavy-lidded with gravity, Asuma told Shikamaru the hard truth, “You don’t. And, you are trying to twist my words around, so that I seem to be promoting the life of an alcoholic sleaze. That way you don’t have to admit that I’m more than a little right.”

Letting the fondness he had for the boy enter his words, “You’re better than this, Shikamaru. You have the ability, the opportunity, and the resources at your disposal to do whatever you want. But, you don’t know what you want, and you’re not willing to try and find out.”

“Find out what makes life worth living.”

“…for you.”

For the first time, the pony-tailed youth let his misgivings show across his face.

The man was right; Shikamaru had no idea what he wanted and, part of him, was worried that he never would. This was it. This was his life.

“So, where do I start? What makes your life worth living, huh?” The slim young man asked.

Initially startled by the boy’s sudden about face, the man lost his composure for a second before actually hearing Shikamaru’s questions. Tobacco clenched between his teeth, Asuma’s mouth grinned around the thin, white stick, “Me? Well, I fell prey to one of the oldest temptations of men around the world. Women.”

Beginning to dig in his wallet for a picture, the bearded man’s voice filled with pride, “Woman, actually.”

Handing over the photo of Konoha’s leading dance instructor, Yuuhi Kurenai, Asuma saw that Shikamaru had made his final move on the shogi board.

Checkmate.

That son of a bitch, he grinned.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Where in the hell is that bastard Shikamaru? thought the beautiful blonde Ino with a snarl.

First, these losers had asked Chouji if he wanted to go out for waffles this morning, when everyone knows that Chouji (and Shikamaru) always Always ALWAYS take me out to breakfast. Of course, Chouji pretended like he was going to turn them down, when I know he just wanted to guilt me into saying that I’d go, too. Ugh, and these waffles aren’t even that…

Taking another delicious bite of the golden Belgian waffle, smothered in blueberries and whipped cream that covered her plate, Ino backtracked a little, mentally, Ok, the waffles are amazing. But, the company…ugh.

Seated at a round dining table topped with Formica were the aforementioned “losers”: Naruto (annoying dumbass), next to him was Gaara (total freak), then Lee (eyebrows), Sakura (forehead…actually, her short hair makes it less noticeable. Huh, you’d think since she got cute, she’d have ditched that train wreck, by now), and Chouji (he’s going to kill himself, eating like that).

“Chouji, slow down. You’re going to choke or something. And, the last thing I want to do this morning is make a trip to the emergency room, k? Geez,” Ino cautioned her ravenous best friend. Looking down at her own half-eaten breakfast, the blue-eyed beauty pushed her plate away. Even though her stomach was grumbling, Ten-ten had mentioned during dance this morning that Ino appeared to have gained weight since college started.

Freshman fifteen? No thank you.

Face scrunching up in worry, Chouji cocked his head to the side and asked, “Is your food okay, Ino? If it’s too cold or something, I can-“

Waving him to a stop, Ino interrupted, “No, no. I’m just on a diet. A girl need’s to keep her figure. Just because we’ve gotten into college doesn’t mean it’s an excuse to pig out. Ne, Sakura?”

With a sweet grin breaking across her face, Sakura bumped a lean shoulder against her boyfriend’s, “Ha, actually, Lee kind of likes it that I have a little muscle. With all the training we do, if I went on a diet…,” The pretty girl’s features distorted themselves as if to say, Yikes.

Listening with rapt attention, Lee smiled sweetly at his pink-haired love. It was true. He loved her body when it was more than just skin over bone. However, secretly, the bushy browed boy would have been just as enamored of Sakura if she weighed 200 pounds, 90 pounds or stayed at her slim 120.

Mouth turned up a little in disgust, Ino glared at the happy couple, I think I am going to be sick.

Facing her from across the table, Naruto chimed in with his opinion, “You know, Ino, I always thought that really thin girls were the prettiest, too. But, well,” the golden brown skin of his face stretched a little, as his bright blue eyes widened in wonder, “last night, I saw this play. There was this girl who danced, Hinata. Let me just say, now and forever that I love girls that have a little curve to them. Love.” The blonde idiot turned to give his red-haired friend a wink, “Right, Gaara? Remember how beautiful she was?”

The strange redhead just hmm’d in response, eyes remaining on the sketchbook in front of him, with only the occasional glance up.

Fuh-reak.

Unable to be put off or silenced in any way, shape, or form, Naruto turned back to Ino, “Did you go see that show last night, too, Ino?”

Gritting her teeth a little in anger and annoyance, the girl spat out, “Yes. I was in it.”

“Oh, really? Did you do lights or something?”

I am going to punch him. Punch him right in his stupid smiling face. Noticing that cow, Hinata but not me. That bastard.

Luckily, Chouji had noticed the quick rise of Ino’s temper, and the touch of his hand on her shoulder quieted the impulse she had to kill the blonde boy.

“He’s not trying to hurt your feelings, Ino,” redirecting his attention to the other blonde, “And, Naruto, Ino was one of the dancers. She did a great job, too. Especially during the wedding sequence, I thought.” The pleasantly plump young man beamed at his gorgeous best friend, hoping she’d forget about pummeling the blonde boy into oblivion.

She did.

Flattery was always the easiest way to distract Ino from her slight tendency towards homicidal mania.

Suddenly, tearing himself away from Sakura, Lee began speaking (in an annoyingly loud voice), “Gaara, you should show everyone some of those sketches you did last night of the play. They were amazing. I almost wish that Sakura and I had missed the wonderful delight of homemade miso and exciting competition that was showered upon us yesterday evening, if I could have seen the passionate sights that Gaara so artfully captured on paper.”

The freak drew pictures of the show…psht, their probably all of that fa- all of Hinata.

Glancing at Sakura, Ino was surprised to find her roommate smiling (again) in response to her embarrassing boyfriend’s outburst.

“Yeah, I loved how you drew the movements, Gaara. Your art seems so alive,” and with a look of chagrin, the girl admitted, “Plus, I don’t think I would have missed the grand night of food and games that Gai had planned for us half as much as Lee might have.”

Excitedly (because he liked games), Naruto started to ask what they had played but was unexpectedly stilled by an apprehensive Gaara.

“What if it was Twister? Do you really want to carry that image around in your mind for the rest of your life?”

Naruto looked confused, but Ino surprised herself, by snorting a little in laughter.

Hearing a positive response to his comment, Gaara glanced around the small table and started slightly in shock upon realizing that it was Ino, who had found him funny. Unable to help herself, the pretty blonde gave the boy a small smile. At this, the redhead, immediately, returned to staring at his sketchbook. Occasionally, Gaara anxiously checked to see if Ino was still watching him.

She was.

Geez. Why did he turn away like that? All I did was give him a nice, friendly smile. I mean, he’s the creepy one. Shouldn’t I be the one freaked out here?

But, the preppy blonde beauty wasn’t. Even her annoyance at Shikamaru’s unexplained absence began to disappear as Sakura related a pretty humorous anecdote involving Gai, Lee’s foster father, and their Honors English teacher, Hatake Kakashi.

This past Tuesday, Gai had boldly stridden into Kakashi’s classroom and challenged him.

Challenged him to a fiery duel of passionate water balloon fighting after class.

A challenge which Kakashi, albeit reluctantly, accepted.

With a mild guffaw, Ino actually joined in the table’s conversation, “Why would he do that?”

“Do you mean Kakashi-sensei accepting the challenge? Or Gai throwing it down?”

“Both.”

“Because, Gai-sensei is the coolest-!!”

“That pervert probably just wanted to get the girls in his class all-“

“Because-Because,” Sakura continued increasing her volume, attempting to halt Lee and Naruto, “Because. Apparently, our English teacher used to be a cop. Detective, in fact. So, the minute Gai hears about the policeman extraordinaire on campus, he rushes over to test out the physical fitness of the Konoha justice system.”

“With water balloons?” questioned Ino, in cynical disbelief.

“Well, not at first. Right, Lee?”

Peering out from beneath his bowl-cut bangs, Lee responded, “Right. There were a number of more intensive physical and mental challenges that preceded…”

The blonde girl supplied the rest, “A water balloon fight.”

The boy nodded, “Yes, water balloons,” shrugging a little, “They just ran out of ideas.”

Sakura put an arm around her boyfriend’s right shoulder, “So, now, it’s just silly contest after silly contest.”

“But, THEY’RE SO FULL OF YOUTH-ouch, Sakura, that hurt!” Naruto’s sarcastic comment had earned him a smack over the head from the pink-haired girl.

Noone pokes fun at her man.

Sniggering at both the blonde boy’s comment and his punishment, Ino could hear the sound echoing to her right.

Gaara, huh?

Again, glancing over at the redhead had the effect of stilling his smile and forcing his face back down.

What the hell is his problem?

To make matters even more confusing, Gaara’s head suddenly shot up; his disturbed gaze focused across the room. After a few seconds of noticeable inner turmoil, the redhead quietly excused himself, claiming that he had to visit the restroom.

A quick scan of the other faces at the table told Ino that she was the only one who had noticed the pale young man’s anxiety.

Was it because of me?

----------------------------------------------------------

Gaara’s stomach was not his friend.

In fact, the way it twisted into a vise, boiled over, and flipped without warning, bitter enemy would have been more accurate.

That girl, from the café, one of Neji’s friends…

Every time she glared at me.

The same look I used to get.

Couldn’t even finish a single waffle.

The state of the redhead’s tummy and its apparent death wish had only gotten worse upon Neji’s entrance into the diner.

He walked in, saw me, turned around, and, practically, ran out. So much, for being friends.

The familiar taste of betrayal and censure coating his lips, Gaara needed a few minutes alone. A week ago, the redhead had expected that he would be treated like this at college, that everything would stay the same, the only change being the location. But, over the past few days, he’d made so many new friends; he’d stopped stuttering; he’d…

He’d been an idiot to think things could have gotten so great, so quickly.

The redhead had nearly made it to the bathroom, when a voice as thick as honey and just as smooth caught his attention.

“Gaara.”

What did he come back for?

Angry at himself and at the stupid blonde girl and, even, at Neji for reminding him of life back in Suna, the redhead didn’t turn to face the Hyuuga. Instead, teeth gritting slightly, he asked with back to the other boy, “What do you want, Neji?”

There was a painful snap to the boy’s normally reserved tone, which was answered by the handsome Hyuuga’s own proud snarl. “Hmph. Nothing, I guess.”

Hearing the superior tone and arrogant answer made Gaara’s chest hurt.

I want to be his friend, but he obviously could care less about me. It’s fine. I just wish-I wish he would leave me alone.

Hating himself a little for it, Gaara glanced back at Neji. The boy’s elegant features were torn between a sneering pride and the scrunch of an unknown pain. Clutched in the Hyuuga’s left hand was a thick sketchbook, its metal rings digging into the young man’s palm. A few pencils poked from Neji’s pockets, and Gaara realized that something very strange was going on.

“Why did you take one look at me and walk off? Is that what you meant last night, about being an asshole sometimes?”

A look of confusion wiped away pride and sorrow.

“You? I was running from that bitch, Ino. She annoys the crap out of me. If she’d seen me, I’d have had to put up with at least an hour of whining and pawing, while she made me recite everything I know about her beloved Sasuke-kun. Actually, he’s the one who told me you guys went out for breakfast. I was looking for you,” in haste, Neji practically spat out his answer.

If Gaara had been the kind of person who exclaimed in response to mild epiphanies, then the redhead would have said, “OH!” right about now.

As he was not that kind of a person, the boy merely thought (in lowercase letters, no less).

Oh, So, that’s why…and he-

But the sketchbook…

Did he want help or to show me his stuff before class on Monday?

I fucked it up.

Letting his mouth turn up at the corners, Gaara’s face was the epitome of apologetic.

For him.

In other words, still as blank as Neji’s new sketchbook but slightly crumpled along the edges of his sky blue eyes.

The redhead started to open his mouth to ask Neji if he wanted to do a little drawing work as practice for Monday’s class, when things went downhill again.

Fast.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ano sa, Ano sa, Ino-chan, you’re a dancer, right? Does that mean your friends with the gorgeous, wonderful, amazing Hinata? Wow! You get to see her dance like everyday, huh? So, what does she normally wear during practices? Does she have a boyfriend? I bet she does; she so beautiful and talented and-…”

“…I haven’t talked to her much in classes, yet. But, she seems really really sweet. Not like most girls. What have you-…”

“Naruto.”

The talkative young blonde swiveled mid-sentence to find Sakura glaring at him with her most deadly of looks. All for Naruto’s own good, of course. If the pretty, pink-haired girl didn’t stop him, knock him out, or something else equally violent, Ino would kill him. Of that, Sakura was certain.

However, the blonde girl had barely noticed Naruto’s spill of inane questioning.

Rather, all of her attention was directed at Gaara’s sketchbook.

Upon leaving for the bathroom, the redhead innocently placed his book right within reach of the blonde girl’s curious grasp.

Who wouldn’t want to figure out what that creepy kid had been doing all morning? And, both Lee and Sakura had claimed Gaara was brilliant. So, the girl casually reached over, slipped the book into her lap, and flipped through, while everyone else continued to talk over her.

Or, in Naruto’s case, to her.

But, lucky for him, Ino wasn’t listening. Like the cobra with a charmer’s flute, she had become entranced by picture after picture, laid out in delicate strokes of pencil and ballpoint pen.

That frea-

He did all of this? It’s so-

On the thick drawing vellum, sketches from that morning filled the entire page, from corner to corner. One was of Lee and Sakura, talking separately, not looking at one another, but, underneath the table, they were holding hands. Love drifted as freely about the couple as the air they breathed.

In spite of herself, Ino couldn’t help but find the scene cute.

Below, was a picture of how Naruto must appear to Gaara. The blonde was beaming with happiness, even while ominous shadows flickered across his face and chest.

For some reason, the sight made Ino’s spine quiver with its eerie dichotomy.

Lastly, three careful sketches were grouped together, and their subjects drew a small gasp from the girl’s pretty pink mouth.

A beautifully sad Ino, crying in front of a smashed mirror.

A kindly, smiling Chouji, bandaging her bloody hands.

Both of them laughing, happy, sitting at the diner table.

Pausing for a moment before continuing to flip through the redhead’s sketchbook, Ino could barely see any of the new pages, her mind captivated by Gaara’s insight.

Until.

Neji?

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“For fuck’s sake, Jirobo, look at this goddamn bill. You ate half the things on it, and now you’re only paying for a fifth. That’s a load of shit.”

Gaara’s mouth hung open in shock, as he saw the group at the cash register. Recognizing the speaker, Neji also froze.

That voice.

A furtive glance back confirmed what the handsome Hyuuga had already known.

t’s those assholes from last night.

With one significant addition, a large twenty-something whose massive bulk was more muscle than fat. His bright orange hair flared up in a well-trimmed mohawk, shaved to skin on the sides.

Gaara’s mouth closed and his face turned deadpan, emotionless.

Because of those jerks or because of me?

Clearing his throat, Neji broke the silence, “Um, so, you were saying, Gaara?”

Clear crystal eyes bore into his, “Yes. I was just going to see if you-“

“Well, look who it is, Sakon! It’s your cute, little redhead,” cried one of the silver-haired boys to his twin.

Ukon.

Whipping around with excitement, Sakon’s deep black eyes lit upon Gaara, “Ooo, he looks just as delicious this morning as he did last night. Maybe even better. All sleepy and full of waffles,” the sadistic boy chuckled evilly.

Hands on hips, hair a bright magenta, Tayuya was utterly fed up with the twins, their faux homosexual taunting, and waiting for her goddamn, motherfucking change, “Where the fuck is Kidomaru, so we can get the hell out of here?!” And you two, leave that trash alone. They can fuck each other raw on the diner floor, for all I care. But, I am fucking sick of hearing you two talk about it.”

A dark-skinned boy with black hair bound up in a tight ponytail broke in upon the girl’s anger, having just exited the men’s restroom.

“Tayuya, half the diner can hear your shouting, un. What’s the problem?” Kidomaru asked, although he seemed more concerned with getting the group out of the restaurant intact, rather than listening to his friend’s explanation.

“Just these fucking queers we keep on running into. Little Red and his dumbass boy-“

Kidomaru interrupted Tayuya with a laugh, “Them? Ha, I don’t know about the little tattooed kid, but that’s Hyuuga Neji, soccer genius.”

Calling over to his large, mohawked friend, “Oi, Jirobo! Remember that Hyuuga coach was scouting last year, the first freshman to make KU’s A Team? I told you how great he did at the first practice.”

“Which practice?”

“The one you missed because of that food poisoning.”

“Oh. I remember now. What about him?”

“He’s here. Come on, let’s go say hi,” said Kidomaru, slapping his large friend on the back.

One hand still touching Jirobo, the dark-skinned youth waved the other in greeting, “Oi, Neji!”

At this, Tayuya increased the tempo of her right foot, which was tapping in impatience, while the silver-haired twins played paper, rock, scissors to see who got to molest the redhead first.

During the whole exchange, Gaara and Neji had been silently listening, waiting, and hoping that the group would just leave without incident.

Well, the handsome Hyuuga was also trying to control his temper.

Will not kill them. Will not kill them.

Upon hearing Kidomaru call out his name, Neji gave a soft groan, while Gaara’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

Forcing himself to turn and greet his teammates, Neji put his back to the redhead and a fake smile on his face, “Hey, guys, what’s up?”

If your fucking father wasn’t friends with my goddamn uncle, I’d…

Internally, Neji was at least as foul-mouthed as Tayuya.

Standing opposite the dark-haired Hyuuga with arms crossed, Kidomaru bantered companionably, “Here for a little Saturday morning refueling, huh? Practice is gonna be harsh tonight; it’s so freaking hot out.”

Inwardly heavy-lidded with boredom, Neji grudgingly responded, “True true.”

“Hey, I almost forgot to introduce to our #1 in defense, here’s Jirobo.”

The great, ham-fisted young man covered up Neji’s smaller pale palm in a firm handshake, “Hiya, Neji, looks like we’re going to be kicking some ass this year, if half of what Kido tells me about you is true.”

In a joking deadpan, Neji claimed, “Lies. They’re all lies. Don’t listen to him,” while glancing behind him to see Gaara already a good ten paces away.

Stop. Hold on. Let me come with you. I don’t even like these guys. It’s just they know my fam-, the dark-haired Hyuuga thought but didn’t say anything.

The twins were also noticeably upset by the redhead’s departure. Sakon went to find some method of cheering himself up, possibly locating some puppies to kick. While Ukon left for the bathroom, to reapply a layer of bright blue lipstick.

Putting his arm around the Hyuuga’s shoulders, Kido pulled Neji out of Gaara’s reach as the rest of the group walked out of the diner, “So, what position do you think you’ll want to play?”

------------------------------------------------------------

There’s so many…and all of Neji.

Bright azure eyes took in each perfect sketch.

Neji kicking a soccer ball. Neji spilling ice cream on his shirt. Neji smiling with heartbreaking sweetness. Neji. Neji. Neji.

The drawings were beyond magnificent. Like all of the redhead’s art, there was a tenuous duality of light and dark, happiness and sadness, life and death. The wrinkle of an old man’s smile. The curve of a young girl’s out-thrown hip.

They were in every single picture of Neji that Ino saw.

That and…

<i.Something else.

The blond girl had spent untold hours in the company of the dark-haired Hyuuga. And, to be brutally honest (which she always was), Ino had never particularly liked him. Sure, he was good-looking (not as sexy as Sasuke-kun), and kind of smart (not half as intelligent as Sasuke-kun), great at sports (Sasuke-kun would crush him), and overly rich (and Sasuke-kun isn’t?).

But, his personality…

I just didn’t get it. Why Ten-ten would want to date him. I mean, sometimes he’s kind of cool. But, most of the time, he’s just a jerk.

Letting her thoughts drift back to Gaara’s other drawings, Ino lazily used one slim finger to trace the elegant curve of the Hyuuga’s graphite cheekbone.

“What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing?”

The girl jumped a little in surprise, as a baritone voice bit off the words, right above her ear. Eyes blazing, Gaara ripped his sketchbook out of the girl’s hands in a single movement.

“What? You think because you’re Miss Perfect that you can have anything you want, do whatever you want. This is private. Did you even think about asking first?!” All of the redhead’s anger at the girl’s thoughtlessness (and at Neji) boiled out of his mouth in a scathing froth, before he stomped off, barely uttering a “See you later,” to the others.

Stunned, the entire group sat in silence for a few moments.

Abruptly, Lee leapt up with a sad but determined look on his face, “I’m going to go after him. Something else must be wrong for him to get so angry. It isn’t like him.”

Putting a twenty in Sakura’s hands, the boy gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Sorry to bail on you, love.”

With an understanding smile, Sakura responded in kind, “Don’t worry about it. You know, Gaara barely finished a fourth of his food. And getting so pissed…he’s going to be starving,” the pink-haired girl arose as she spoke, leaving the twenty for their bill, “I’ll go back to the dorms and make him some lunch. He loves those little seaweed wraps, right, Lee?”

If the brown-eyed boy hadn’t been so worried, he might have beamed brighter, but it was only a small grin Lee offered Sakura, “Yeah, with pickled plums.”

Staring at the pair, Naruto dropped some bills on the table and stood up, “I’ll go with you, Lee.”

A husky voice chimed in seconds later, “I’m going, too, you guys,” the good-natured Chouji said, although it would mean leaving behind a half-eaten waffle.

Chouji.

“Chouji, you,” began Ino, a hurt expression on her face.

All I did was look at his stupid book. And the pictures were amazing. They even talked about seeing them earlier. Why is everyone so upset? Shouldn’t they be asking me if I‘m ok? I mean, I was practically just assaulted…

A part of the blonde girl knew that Gaara’s anger probably had a great deal to do with a certain dark-haired Hyuuga that filled at least thirty pages of his sketchbook, who her best friend was, and how she had treated the redhead earlier that week. Most of the girl, however, refused to see the truth about any of it; how she acted, who she was, and what the redhead feared she might do with any acquired information.

Donning a serious look out of keeping with his cheerful demeanor, Chouji gave Ino ten dollars, “Here, Ino. Finish, pay for your meal, and don’t worry. This is all, well, it’s at least partially a misunderstanding. But, Gaara’s a nice guy. He deserves some kind of apology from--So, I’ll go give it to him, okay?”

Even though I should be the one-

Walking off with the others, Chouji called back, “Oh, and if you see Shikamaru, could you tell him that the Gaming Club meeting got cancelled tonight. The air conditioning isn’t working, and no one wants to be inside that stuffy club room, when it’s this hot out. Thanks, Ino.”

“Yeah, no problem. Thanks, Chouji,” Ino said quietly.

Left alone at the diner table, stomach grumbling, beautiful golden hair shining in the sunlight, Ino thought about breaking mirrors, bloody palms, and a Hyuuga’s secret smile, as she turned to finish off every single bite of cold waffle on her plate.

And on Chouji’s, as well.

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After exiting the diner, the group had quickly split up; Sakura headed for her dorm room, promising to look and see if Gaara had gone to his. Chouji and Lee were going to hightail it over to the art building, and Naruto was off to check the redhead’s favorite café.

As the group separated, Naruto’s chest panged a little in envy as he watched Lee and Sakura hug each other goodbye.

Not so much because he wanted Sakura.

Sure, he loved her. Always would, her being his first crush and all. But-

I’m not the man for her.

Still, that…what they have, I want that-

With a shake of his head, Naruto stopped the thoughts and returned to the mission at hand. Taking a deep breath, the blonde centered his emotions and allowed his natural exuberance to shine forth, pushing away momentary hunger and melancholy.

Resolve flooded into his bones.

Got to find Gaara.

Except, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“N-naruto-kun?”

“Hinata?”

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“Gaara?”

Knock Knock.

“Are you home? It’s me, Sakura,” the door swung open rather ominously, as the pretty pink-haired girl rapped on its hard wooden surface.

Crush. Crunch. Smash. Crunch. Rrrrripppp. Crush. Crunch. Smash.

The only sound in the room was that of Gaara ripping out sheets from his sketchbook, crushing them into little balls, and throwing them into the wastebasket. Back facing the door, the redhead was unable to see the look of concern that chased itself across Sakura’s face.

“There you are,” unlike Gaara’s older sister, this girl had no trouble wading through the awkwardness of the situation to sit on the bed next to the boy.

“We were worried about you, running off like that,” Sakura reached out to remove a bit of paper that had gotten stuck in a strand of blood-red hair. The boy flinched away, while simultaneously tearing out another sheet of paper.

Besides that, he seemed to be ignoring her presence.

<i.Wants me to get uncomfortable and leave, huh?

Smirking to herself, Fat chance.

And, Sakura did the one thing that she knew the boy wouldn’t expect, the one thing that would shake him out of whatever mood he’d gotten himself into, the one thing she’d wanted to do since she first saw him, nervous and stuttering.

She hugged him.

Hugged him close and refused to let go until he’d learned how to smile that little self-conscious grin, again.

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“Hinata.”

The small, sweet girl was dressed in a pale blue summer dress, snatched and pulled by a light breeze that did nothing to decrease the day’s overwhelming heat. Her pale skin pinkened by the sun, both arms held some notebooks and a small, matching blue clutch.

Wow. She’s…

Bashfully ducking her head, Hinata tried to explain herself to Naruto, “I w-was just w-walking by, and I saw you. I heard you c-came to the play last night. W-what did you think?”

Catching his breath, Naruto immediately exclaimed in response to the poor girl’s question, “Amazing! Just amazing! You were-!” Catching her tiny hands in his and nearly upsetting her books, the blonde boy tried to emphasize just how wonderful he thought her dancing was and how much he wanted to see her perform again, “How come you never mentioned that you could dance like that? We’ve had classes together forever.”

Hinata’s face seemed frozen in happiness, stunned, overloaded.

“Hinata?”

“Naruto.”

Her pale violet eyes refocused, “W-well, I’m really not that good, so I didn’t-“

With a look of disbelief, the blonde’s mouth pouted as he let go of the flustered girl, “Not that good? Hinata...Gaara practically cried his eyes out, and I nearly let out a couple of tears, myself. You were great! Please don’t ever say that you aren’t ever ever again, ok? Promise?”

Straightening her books, she smiled her kind, blushing smile, and promised, “Ok, Naruto-kun, I won’t. But, I-I suppose, I should let you go. You looked like you were in a hurry. S-sorry, I stopped-“

Putting his finger up against her lips, Naruto stilled the pale girl’s apology, “Shh, Hinata. Please don’t be sorry. I was looking all over the place for you last night. I wanted to compliment you, then. You just made my life a little easier, by finding me first. Thank you. But, sigh, you’re right. I have to go find my friend-“

“Gaara?”

“Yeah, you know Ino, right? Well, she-“ scratching his head a little in confusion, “Actually, I’m not entirely sure what went on, but he’s upset, so I need to find him.”

Turning her head to the side, the pretty Hyuuga grinned so widely, that her eyelashes brushed cheekbone.

Gulp.

“You’re such a good friend, Naruto-kun. I hope you find him soon, because I am sure that you’ll know just how to make him feel better.”

“H-h-hai,” stuttered Naruto.

How could I have gone to the same school as her all my life and never noticed?

“Ok, well, I’ll see you in class on Monday,” called the sweet girl, waving goodbye.

“Monday?” Naruto’s question halted her departure.

Again, her tendency towards embarrassment took over, and Hinata looked up at him through thick violet bangs to murmur, “Yeah, we have Psychology together.”

<i.We do? How did I-

Rubbing his forehead in a sudden burst of shyness, the blonde lied, “Oh yeah, I forgot, silly me. Haha. I suppose I will see you there, then.”

With a slight nod of her head, the graceful Hyuuga started to walk away but was stopped by Naruto, once again, “Hey, Hinata!”

Come on, you practiced this all morning…

Walking over to the girl, Naruto rubbed his sweaty palms on his brown cargo shorts, hoping that he wasn’t leaving behind wet spots, “Umm, I was just wondering if maybe you weren’t, you know, doing anything, or if you weren’t seeing anyone, that maybe you’d think about maybe, you know, umm, going out on a date with me sometime…umm, soon.”

“A d-date?” Bright red, the girl’s face was so hot that it could’ve fried an egg.

Touching the ends of her delicate fingers to soft, pink lips, violet eyes went blank for a split second, unnoticed by the nervous blonde.

Under her breath, Hinata muttered to herself, “I just couldn’t.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I-I should have,” the boy began, his cheeks turning an even more fluorescent shade of red than the Hyuuga’s. “I’ll just go, now.”

Head down, hands in pockets, Naruto began the long walk to the KU Café, wishing he had something to kick in front of him, besides his dwindling self-esteem.

I sounded like an idiot. No wonder, she didn’t-

Suddenly, the blonde felt a small tug on his sleeve.

“N-Naruto-kun.”

Too embarrassed to look at the girl, Naruto, stared at his feet and asked, “Yes, Hinata?”

“Ask me again.”

Startled, the blonde’s head darted up to see if the girl really meant what she’d said. Her pale eyes stared right into his, and he felt like he was being really seen for the very first time in his entire life.

“Hinata.”

“Yes, Naruto-kun.”

“Would you like to go out to dinner sometime?”

“I’d love to.”

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Author’s Note: (This week joined by Team 8)

Hello, everyone, this week I am here with Hyuuga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Akamaru, and…(the authoress gets a little dreamy-eyed) the sexiest smex to ever come of the out of the Aburame Clan, Shino.

In actuality, their presence has no purpose except for when they chime in with random phrases filled with Team Eighty goodness. But, enjoy.

First off, this story is not SakuGaa or GaaSaku. Sakura was just a wonderful friend who knew what the boy needed most in this chapter.

She loves Lee.

Kiba does something absurdly cute and rambunctious with Akamaru for the audience, getting them to AWWW, seemingly in response to the authoress.

Second, important thing to know, next week the BIG BAD of the story finally starts to get some light shed on it. If you don’t know what I am referring to, then reread chapters 4, 5…heck, even 2 and 3. There are bad guys in this story, in both Naruto’s and Gaara’s worlds, and we finally get a little peek starting next week. Yay!

Hinata becomes completely OOC for a moment and flashes the audience. Everyone shouts YAY! in ecstasy.

I love Team 8.

Lastly, before I ever started writing this story I actually made out a list of everyone who will eventually show up for even a few seconds, I figured out major pairings, character deaths, and even wrote down little character sheets detailing unimportant facts about each personr. Like,

Ala the Mickey Mouse Club, Team 8 begins a cute little recitation:

Hinata: Their majors

Shino: Embarrassing facts and past history

Kiba: What they wear to bed…Hey, wait, seriously? This list says that you even put down how many times they mastu-

Hurriedly, the authoress interrupts the boy, Well, it looks like we’re out of time.

Shino grips her shoulder from behind and whispers in her ear, Ahh, yes, I forgot to say why I was telling you this information in the first place. Letting her voice get all sultry, Thank you, Shino. If you play your cards right, there may just be a one shot in your future.

Back in character and looking nervous, Hinata mumbles, But, isn’t that sexual harassment?

Lowering his sunglasses to stare at the authoress, Shino replies for her, Only if the attention is unwanted. And, just so you know…it isn’t.

Can I be in the one-shot too? yells Kiba.

No. Well, maybe. But, anyways, if anyone wants me to post a cast list or class schedules or some of the pairings or character bios or just include some of the silly information I have stored up about this story that might never see the light of day, then just say so in a review.

If I get more reviews for this chapter than any of the others (might be hard, as chapter 5 has nine), then I will have much shorter author notes with the extras added on. If not, then I will probably message them to whoever really wants to see them.

Seriously, they are beyond awesome. Right, guys?

Team 8 chimes in with an enthusiastic group, “YEAH!”

Plus, if you don’t, then a little part of me will die inside…tear.

(Don’t worry. She’s lying…or is she?)