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Chapter Text

Gaara had blood on his knuckles and pleas for mercy ringing in his ears when he learned that his best friend of over a decade was moving back to town. His immediate reaction was an immense wave of something dangerously close to joy. After that subsided, only one word remained in his mind:

Fuck.

After meeting at the tender age of six, Gaara and Lee had been inseparable throughout elementary school. Their relationship was a mystery to the other students and teachers, who could not help but wonder how two starkly different individuals got along so well.

Alas, their carefree school days did not last. Halfway through their second year of middle school, Lee was forced to move across the country due to his parents' jobs. The two friends were devastated, but vowed to keep in touch.

As Gaara started high school alone, he found that something about him drew trouble like a magnet. Maybe it was his appearance, from his unnatural-looking hair to his permanently unnerving stare. Maybe it was his voice, which never rose from a quiet monotone and always spoke with blunt disregard. Maybe it was his personality, the way he eschewed human interaction and handled everything with cold efficiency.

Whatever it was, the hooligans and delinquents of the school immediately set their sights on Gaara. In the first week, he was cornered in an alleyway by a group of third years on his way home from school. He walked out ten minutes later, not a scratch on his person.

That was how it started.

Incredulous, more and more upperclassmen challenged Gaara, only to meet the same fate. News of the freakishly strong kid from East Sand High spread, until students from nearby schools began seeking him out. None were able to defeat him.

What started as a minor annoyance on Gaara's part became a welcome source of stress relief. Without Lee at his side, he was more irritable, more impatient, and more aggressive. The brawls, which occurred almost daily, allowed him to let off steam against people who were more or less asking for it.

Gaara began looking for fights on his own, issuing an open challenge to anyone willing to face him. He gained a fearsome moniker, and a reputation to match. Soon, the Self-Loving Demon was known to every student of every school in the region.

A year passed in this manner. The second seemed destined to unfold in much the same way, until one fateful day in September.

_

Gaara looked impassively at the groaning bodies on the ground. The boy at his feet coughed, blood flying out and just narrowly missing his shoes. The itch in his bones had abated somewhat, so he turned and walked out of the alley.

The slam of a door announced Gaara's return home. The house was eerily quiet with both of his siblings off at college. He walked into the living room to find his father waiting for him.

Rasa, a stern man with an acute business sense, loved his family dearly. For a time after his wife's death, he had become cold and withdrawn, throwing himself into his work as he left his children in the care of his brother-in-law.

Following the death of Gaara's uncle in a brutal car accident, Rasa vowed not to make the same mistake, and began the slow process of reconnecting with his children. Years later, they were a close if somewhat unusual family.

The man quirked an eyebrow at the blood flecking his son's hands, but made no comment. "Good, you're home," he said instead. "Lee called earlier. His family will be moving back here in February."

Gaara froze.

"He'll be transferring to your school at the start of the second semester," Rasa continued. "He requested that you call him when you have the time."

Gaara promptly dashed upstairs. He tended to leave his phone at home so that it was not a liability in fights, and he turned it on now as he shucked his uniform jacket off.

Lee picked up on the first ring. "Gaara!" a bright, clear voice greeted.

"Lee," the boy returned, same as always.

"I take it your father has told you the good news?"

"Yeah," Gaara murmured.

"I am so excited!" Lee barreled on. "It has been so long since we were classmates. I cannot wait to attend school with you again!"

Gaara pictured his friend's horrified face as the boy witnessed one of his brawls. "Me too."

"You have told me so much about East Sand High, it feels as though I have already been there," Lee said cheerfully. "I was worried when you started school alone, so it made me very happy to hear what a nice place it is."

"You'll like it here," Gaara said. He would make sure of that.

Lee laughed. "I know I will, if only because you will be there with me! Do you remember how you would help me with my homework whenever I did not understand something? You have always been an exemplary student. I am sure your classmates all admire you greatly."

"Unlikely," Gaara replied flatly.

"You are too modest, my friend! I know I will not be able to get a straight answer out of you, so I will just have to see for myself come February."

As they chatted, all Gaara could think was that he absolutely could not allow Lee to see what he had become. By the time the call ended, he was sure of one thing.

He had one semester to clean up his act.

Never one to do things by halves, Gaara set his sights on the position of school president. The elections would take place in October, and he dedicated the intervening time to straightening out his image.

The faculty were relatively easy to win over. Gaara had always done well in class, and most of the teachers already treated him with a sort of cowed respect. With his newfound diligence, he soon became the model student.

The other kids took a bit more effort. Yet as weeks passed without a single report of Gaara's involvement in a fight, his peers slowly began to accept this new individual who was unfailingly polite, if a little stiff, and ever ready to be of assistance.

One month later, Gaara became the president of East Sand High School, an unusual feat for a second year, and even more so for a former delinquent.

_

When Lee returned on a brisk day in February, Gaara was ready. The first thing his friend did was pull him into a bone-crushing hug. He relaxed minutely, too used to the perfect posture required of a student council president.

Lee drew back and beamed. "You have not changed at all, my friend! Well, apart from your hair." He tilted his head at the slicked-back strands. "It looks very hip, but I will miss your old style."

"I'll stop using gel," Gaara said immediately. He had taking to smoothing down his unruly mane to better suit his role, but if his friend disliked the look, it would have to go.

Lee ran a hand over his own pristine bowl cut. "I was thinking of going back to my old hairstyle as well. I am sure that my shifu would understand." He smiled then, and Gaara felt a reassuring conviction that nothing had changed.

The first day of the new semester, the pair walked to school together. They passed by an alley on the way, and Gaara wondered how Lee would react if his friend knew that the discolored stain beside the trash can was his doing.

As soon as they stepped into school, a boy materialized in front of them. "Glad I found you, President. Here are the budget sheets for this month. The art club is still pushing for more easels, and they're sending a representative down to argue their case."

"Understood. Thank you, Shira," Gaara said, accepting the stack of papers from his vice president.

"You're welcome. I'll see you at the council meeting during lunch." With an easy nod at the two, the other left.

Lee turned to his friend with a delighted grin. "Gaara! You never told me you were the school president!"

The boy allowed himself a small bit of satisfaction. "It never came up."

Lee shook his head admiringly. "What did I say? I just knew that your merits would not go unrecognized by the other students." A confused look flitted across his face. "But I thought that only third years received council positions. At least, that was how it was done at my old school."

"Typically, that's the case. The other people on the council are all third years."

A beat, and then Lee's grin widened. "My friend, you really are amazing. I am so proud of you!"

Those words made everything worth it.

At lunch, Gaara joined three others in the meeting room. He handed the completed budget sheets to Shira, who did not seem surprised. "Efficient as always, President."

The treasurer smiled wryly as she leaned back in her chair. "I keep telling you that I can help with those, but it seems like I should stop bothering."

Gaara took a seat. "Your offer is appreciated but unnecessary, Sen."

The secretary looked up from where she had been scanning a file. "The art club is sending over a representative to discuss their budget today."

"Don't worry, Yome, I told him." Shira glanced at Gaara. "That's right, I've been meaning to ask. The student from this morning was your childhood friend, correct? Rock Lee."

The treasurer arched an eyebrow. "The one you told us about? The perfect being who can do no wrong?"

"Sen!" Yome looked alarmed, but the other girl only laughed and waved a hand.

"I think it's cute."

Gaara watched, face impassive. While he was glad to know that Sen felt comfortable enough to joke around with him, it seemed that Yome still feared him to some extent. He would have to work on that. "Yes," he said simply. Something occurred to him. "How do you know his full name?"

Shira held up a folder. "I received the transfer student's file this morning." He flipped it open. "Community service, volunteer work, captain of multiple athletic teams. In a word, superhuman."

Gaara blinked. Lee had told him about all those activities, but it was still strange to hear them listed aloud.

Sen whistled. "You know, I was kind of joking about the perfect part, but now I'm not so sure. The sports clubs are gonna have a field day recruiting him. Too bad he can only join one."

Gaara nodded. The schools in their area were a bit different in that all of their teams were year-round, eliminating the option for students to participate in a different sport per season. He made a mental note to ask Lee about that later.

Gaara accidentally found his friend during the last few minutes of lunch, while conducting a routine sweep of the roof. The familiar colors of their school uniform caught his eye, and he was about to give the standard warning, "Trespassing here is prohibited."

The words died on Gaara's tongue when the figure turned and there Lee was, wind tousling the flipped ends of his childhood haircut and rustling the zipper of his jacket. Lee gave his friend a bright smile, and greeted Gaara with the same radiance that had captured the boy's fascination since day one. "Gaara!"

"Lee," Gaara returned. Same as always. He walked up to join his friend at the railing.

Lee's smile turned sheepish. "My apologies, am I not supposed to be on the roof? I was about to leave, but I could not tear my eyes away." He turned back to lean against the edge. "The view is beautiful up here."

Gaara followed the other's gaze. Cotton clouds dotted an azure sky that stretched to the horizon, overlooking a town of cheery rooftops and verdant canopies. He had never given it much thought before, but he found himself making a sound of agreement.

Lee sighed happily. "It is good to be home."

Gaara paused to watch the wind play with his friend's hair a little longer, then said, "You told me about participating in athletic clubs, but you never mentioned you were the team captain for all of them."

"To be honest, it came as a surprise to me, too," Lee replied, laughing. "I only joined in the first place because they all said they needed another member."

Typical. Gaara knew the boy could never refuse a request for help. "Have you decided which sport you're going to do here?"

Lee hummed. "I can only choose one, correct? If that is the case, I would like to do something I am truly passionate about. Is there a martial arts team at this school?"

"Yes," Gaara answered. He had personally thrashed the captain a year ago. Luckily, that person had graduated by now.

"Excellent!" Lee pushed away from the railing as the bell rang. "I will be sure to check it out later. Shall we head to class?"

Thanks to some clever words on Gaara's part, the pair shared the same schedule. He had suggested that it would allow him to better help the transfer student adjust to a new environment, but that was a flat-out lie. The boy needed no assistance there.

As they walked, Lee chatted about his shifu, who had also been the gym teacher at his old school. The man ran a wushu training hall on the side, which he had walked into one day, unknowingly sparking a mentor-pupil bond for the ages.

"I must introduce you sometime," Lee enthused. "Master Guy has also expressed a keen desire to meet you. I told him all about my hardworking best friend, and he said that you were the epitome of youth and determination! That is high praise from him!"

Gaara was not quite sure how to feel about a grown man obsessing over youth, but he supposed it was fine so long as his friend was happy.

_

The first week back passed smoothly for Lee. To his delight, the martial arts team did in fact practice wushu, and he dove in with alarming enthusiasm.

Gaara should have been happy. His best friend was right by his side, and believed him to be a mature, responsible individual. But the looming threat of his secret being exposed never strayed far from his mind.

There were too many close calls. Every few days, it seemed that a student would be on the verge of alluding to Gaara's past, compelling him to bark a distraction and remove Lee from the scene immediately as he shot the offending person a glare that had them scurrying for cover.

Slowly, the student body learned not to mention anything about Gaara's colorful history in the vicinity of the new kid. That was good news for his insomnia. If the rings around his eyes got any worse, he would have to start subsisting on bamboo.

Gaara always stayed after when Lee had practice so that they could walk home together. He usually finished whatever work there was to do early, and had taken to observing his friend's practice during the remaining time. From his position in the council room, he had a good view of the courtyard where the martial arts team trained.

Gaara watched as Lee slid fluidly into a stance, the white silk of the wushu uniform fluttering in the breeze. As the members moved in unison through the steps of a form, it occurred to him how graceful and elegant the boy looked. Nothing like the gritty street fighting that had once been a consuming part of his life.

"Say, Gaara," Lee said later, mashing buttons expertly on his controller. An open notebook and scattered papers lay forgotten on the table.

Gaara grunted, eyes flicking from the screen to his friend's expression of concentration.

"The martial arts team will be taking part in a competition on Thursday." Lee hummed. "It will be my first time, so I am rather nervous."

"You'll do fine," Gaara said simply.

Lee grinned. "Your confidence heartens me, my friend! Do not worry, I am more excited than I am nervous. Will you be able to attend?"

"Yeah," Gaara replied without missing a beat. He did not even bother reviewing his appointments. If necessary, he would simply reschedule the conflicting event.

"Really?" Lee looked away from the screen to blink at the boy in astonishment. "That is splendid news! I know you are very busy, so I had not expected you to be available."

Gaara shrugged.

A series of beeps from the television alerted them to the victor. Lee whipped around in dismay, and made a sound reminiscent of a dying walrus. "No, that was completely unfair! I demand a rematch!"

Gaara's face held the barest hint of amusement. "Fine. After you finish the next five problems like we agreed."

A groan was his only answer.

Chapter Text

The name of the opposing high school should have tipped Gaara off. The majority of his outside challengers had originated from West Sand High, and many of them had not graduated yet. To make matters worse, the tournament was being held at the other school.

Gaara scanned the contestants for Lee, and saw two or three or eight unpleasantly familiar faces in the process. He was suddenly exceedingly glad that he had forgone his school uniform in favor of casual clothes. Finally, he spotted that shiny flip of black hair.

Lee seemed to sense Gaara's gaze, and turned to search him out in the crowd. Upon finding him, the boy waved eagerly. He raised a hand in acknowledgment, hoping that no one else would recognize him underneath his hood.

Gaara observed with mild interest until it came time for Lee's turn. With a start, he realized that his friend's opponent was someone he had faced before. The person in question had used underhanded methods to fight, he remembered, dread sinking into the pit of his stomach. Strange. He had never felt fear during his own brawls, but now he found himself wishing that he could call off the match.

"You better watch out," Lee's opponent sneered. "I'll take you down like I took down the Self-Loving Demon."

Gaara stilled.

"Yeah, right!" Laughter came from the other West Sand competitors. "The Self-Loving Demon's never lost, you liar!"

Lee blinked as his opponent scowled. "The Self-Loving Demon? What is that?"

Just then, the whistle sounded. The West Sand student did not deign to reply, instead charging forward with all the ferocity of a raging bull. In a flash, he was on the ground.

"Two points to East Sand High," the referee said in the silence.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. "What just happened?" Gaara heard a girl ask her friend.

"I think that kid flipped him," came the startled reply.

The West Sand student stared dazedly up at the ceiling for a few moments. Then, face darkening, he flipped himself up and lunged again, throwing out one hand in a punch aimed at the stomach. When Lee moved to block, he smirked and let fly with another jab directed toward the throat.

Gaara's hands fisted. He should have known that the bastard would target an illegal area. To his surprise, he saw his friend cleanly dodge both hits by dropping into a crouch, then execute a sweeping kick.

Yet again, the West Sand student found himself on his back with a nice view of the ceiling.

"Two points to East Sand High," declared the referee.

Lee resumed his stance, smiling brightly. When his opponent ran at him again, he responded with an open-hand strike toward the boy's solar plexus.

The West Sand student doubled over from the hit, which was quickly followed by a swift tap to his back. He went down, this time on his stomach.

The noise from the crowd nearly drowned out the referee's next words. "Four points to East Sand High."

Desperate now, the West Sand student scrambled to his feet. With a roar, he aimed a vicious roundhouse kick at the other's side.

Lee jumped to avoid the attack, and returned a nimble kick of his own that sent his opponent reeling onto the floor.

"Four points to East Sand High," said the referee. "The difference in score between the two competitors is twelve points or more. As per tournament rules, the competitor with the higher score is declared the winner. Rock Lee of East Sand High advances to the next round."

"Did you see that?" a man in an adjacent seat asked in disbelief. "The kid didn't lose a single point."

Gaara did not reply, his head filled with flowing limbs and effortless grace.

Lee's following matches played out much the same way, the boy scoring points with elegant yet rapid movements that left the other competitors and audience stunned. The crowd burst into cheers when the final rankings were shown, the name at the top displaying a telling zero in the losses column.

Immediately after the tournament formally concluded, Lee made a beeline for Gaara. He tackled his friend into a hug, laughing breathlessly. "That was such fun!" Pulling back, he asked with shining eyes, "Did you enjoy yourself, my friend?"

"Yeah," Gaara replied simply. A pause, and then, "I told you that you'd do fine."

Lee's grin was blinding. "So you did! You really are right about everything."

As they walked home, reliving the best moments of the competition, Gaara could not help but dwell on the comment that had almost blown his cover. He just hoped that his friend had already forgotten all mention of the Self-Loving Demon.

_

"Gaara!"

The hushed shout from outside would have startled the boy awake if his sleeping patterns had any semblance of normalcy. As it was, he only blinked and looked up from his computer.

"Lee." Gaara opened the window and stared down at his friend. "It's three in the morning."

"I am sorry, were you sleeping?" Lee had the grace to appear contrite.

"No. But you should be."

Lee brightened again. "In that case, come with me! There is something I have wanted to do ever since my return."

Gaara gave the other a dour look, but was already halfway out the window. He landed next to the boy with a thud. "Where are we going?"

"You will see!" was his only answer as Lee pulled him along.

Gaara soon recognized the path they were taking. Nostalgia hit him like a punch to the gut, but he stayed silent until they reached their destination.

A vast meadow spread out before them, the grass rippling and undulating in waves as a cool night breeze blew past. Overhead, a sea of stars twinkled down, like the eyes of so many benevolent and watchful spirits. Lee let go of his friend and turned around eagerly. "Do you remember this place?"

Of course Gaara remembered. When they were younger, after learning about his insomnia, Lee had taken to dragging him here to pass the most unbearable nights. The endless meadow and starry skies had played audience to countless hopes and dreams, back when the future held only possibilities, and regret was a foreign concept. He merely nodded in reply as he lay back, tugging the other down beside him.

Lee went willingly, sprawling with limbs outspread, as though the entire world were his playground. "Gaara, make a wish," he said, beginning the familiar conversation.

The boy obliged, gazing up at the pinpricks of light. "I wish you'd win all your competitions."

Lee laughed. "It is supposed to be something you want, my friend! Very well, then I wish for your every endeavor as student council president to be successful."

"I wish you'd get more sleep."

Lee did not have much practice with the unimpressed look that Gaara had perfected, but he made a valiant attempt at it now. "I wish your insomnia would go away."

"I wish school would end earlier."

"I wish we were allowed up on the roof."

"I wish they'd serve something edible for lunch on Tuesdays."

"I wish I could beat you more than just a quarter of the time in fighting games."

"I wish you'd realize that's never going to happen."

"Hey!" A huffed laugh.

Gaara glanced over, and was instantly mesmerized by the other's carefree expression. The entirety of the heavens seemed reflected in those dark orbs. His next words slipped out unbidden. "I wish you'd never leave me again."

Lee tutted. "It was not your turn, so that does not count, my friend!" He smiled. "I wish for us to be together always." He nudged the boy. "Is that acceptable?"

Gaara closed his eyes. "Yeah."

They lay side by side, dreaming and reminiscing by turns. Before they left, Gaara mouthed a last wish at the fading stars. "I wish you'd never realize that I don't deserve you."

_

Prior to becoming student council president, Gaara had never given Valentine's Day at their school much thought. It was simply a tradition that resulted in a great deal more commotion and theatrics than necessary. But he could no longer remain purposefully ignorant when he was the one saddled with the duty of approving events and announcements related to its observance.

So Gaara was all too aware of what day it was when he walked into school that morning. To his chagrin, he received no fewer than three confessions before even setting foot in his classroom. He thought he had put a stop to that nonsense months ago.

The first confession happened several weeks after the election in October. Gaara, whose strength lay not in interpersonal relationships, had called Lee and very bluntly asked what to do. Glaring at the confessor until they went away seemed counterproductive to the image he was trying to cultivate.

Lee, always sensitive to the feelings of others, had given Gaara tips on turning people down tactfully. It worked a little too well, because his rejections were so courteous that instead of decreasing the number of admirers, their ranks seemed to only grow.

After weeks of this, Gaara had lost patience and stated in no uncertain terms that he was not interested in a relationship with anyone at school. This seemed to deter his fans, and he believed the problem to be resolved.

But apparently there was something about Valentine's Day that made people think it worthwhile to ignore his words. His opinion of the holiday was growing bleaker by the second.

Lee had gone on ahead after the first girl approached them, only too happy to give Gaara and his youthful admirer some privacy. When the president finally caught up with his friend, his face darkened.

What was that third year doing in their classroom? More importantly, what was he doing so close to Lee? And most importantly of all, why was he on his knees and clasping Lee's hands?

"I usually wouldn't do this, but you're something special," the upperclassman was saying. "Watching you at the tournament took my breath away. Please, you have to accept. I won't take no for an answer!" Suddenly, there was an ominous presence at his back.

"What do you think you're doing?" Gaara nearly growled. "This isn't your classroom."

The third year, to his credit, only twitched uncomfortably and got to his feet. "Sorry about that, President. I know I'm intruding, but I had something very important to do." He strode to the door, and gave Lee an intense stare. "I'll make sure you say yes!" With those parting words, he left.

Gaara shot a final glare at the upperclassman's back, then turned to face his friend, who was looking at the doorway with a bashful expression, to his horror. "Who was that?" he demanded.

Lee blinked and gave the boy his full attention. "That was the captain of the martial arts team. Do you not remember him from the tournament?"

No wonder the guy looked familiar. Gaara scowled. "Did he make you uncomfortable? I can get him to stop."

"Oh, no, I am fine." Lee laughed. "This sort of thing has happened several times before, and I always end up accepting. I think I will take some more time to consider this offer, however."

Gaara stilled. His friend had been confessed to several times? And the boy had accepted them all? He felt strangely betrayed. Why had he never been informed? "I see," was his only reply.

It was official. Gaara hated Valentine's Day.

_

The following weeks were a trying time for Gaara. Lee's suitor would pop up frequently, always bearing gifts or compliments.

"Lee! I found this game you'd like. Come on, what do you say?"

"Looking impeccable as ever, Lee. I'd expect no less from you!"

When Gaara was busy with council duties, he would see the captain cornering his friend against the wall and whispering intimately, or jabbering in the boy's ear while walking down the hall. Sometimes the upperclassman would have the audacity to join them at lunch, and those conversations were enough to fray anyone's patience.

"Your looks are just the thing, too," the captain said one day, and cupped Lee's jaw.

Gaara's hand tightened around his drink.

"You have a really nice face that puts others at ease, plus your eyes are big and trustworthy," the upperclassman continued, then ran both hands down Lee's sides.

The can crumpled in Gaara's grip.

"You have a great body, all lean muscle. Aesthetically pleasing instead of intimidatingly bulky. Super graceful when doing forms, but unexpectedly strong when sparring. In a word, perfect."

Lee smiled, a pink tinge to his face. "While I thank you for the kind words, I do not think appearance should play a role here."

"You're right, but what I'm saying is, everything about you is ideal."

At that moment, the bell rang. Gaara had never left a room so fast, grabbing Lee and hightailing it out of there without a backwards glance.

Practices were the worst. The captain was glued to Lee's side then, always finding reasons to touch him. The other members of the team seemed to encourage it, and more than once had left the two alone afterward to do who knew what. The school president, of course, always interrupted them at that point.

More often than not, Gaara came home simmering with rage, but he no longer had an outlet for his frustrations. One afternoon, his fury bubbled over, leading him to punch the side of the house before entering.

Rasa took one look at his son's bloodied fist and went to get a first-aid kit. "Wipe the blood off the wall, will you? Don't want it to stain."

Gaara complied, and when he returned, his father was waiting in the kitchen. He sat down.

The man started applying ointment. "A little different from punching flesh, no?"

Gaara had never before questioned why his father permitted his street-fighting lifestyle without complaint, but he did so now.

The man shrugged. "I was in a gang in high school. It would be hypocritical for me to protest just because my son decided to rough a few people up."

The boy stared. "You were in a gang?" He tried to picture his straitlaced, serious father in thug attire and making a gang sign. He gave up.

"Yes. Of course, all that stopped after college." Rasa eyed his son lazily. "I did the same thing, you know. How else do you think I wooed your mother?"

"Did what?"

"Went on the straight and narrow. Rose to a position of importance." The man considered. "I suppose it runs in the family to overcompensate when trying to impress someone."

"Did Mother know?"

"Certainly. I couldn't keep it hidden forever. In fact, that was why she agreed to a date with me in the first place." Rasa smiled in reminiscence. "She wanted to know if I had any tattoos. I told her that was a secret for the third date."

"You were both weird," Gaara decided. His father only chuckled in response.

Chapter Text

Walking to school the next morning, Lee folded his hands behind his head and turned to his friend. "Say, Gaara, what do you think I should do about the captain's offer?"

"Kick his ass and never speak to him again," Gaara wanted to say, but settled for, "Turn him down."

Lee nodded. "That was my first thought as well, but he is being so patient and tactful about it."

Gaara stared. "You call this tactful?"

Lee blinked. "Yes. Other people were much more, well, zealous."

Gaara gritted his teeth. Just imagining that his friend had been coerced into a relationship, no, multiple relationships, was enough to make him see red. "You weren't forced to do anything, were you?" he asked, voice deathly quiet.

There was a bright laugh in reply. "Of course not! In truth, it is a great compliment, one which I do not believe I really deserve."

"You're wrong," Gaara was about to say, but paused. Perhaps the boy's modesty would be a boon here. "Why did you accept?"

Lee looked up at the sky. "I decided to give it a try, and then found myself enjoying the experience. It was nice doing things like organizing a night out together, or having a heartfelt talk whenever one of us felt down. And it was amazing to see them covered in sweat and breathless with exertion but still having such a good time during our activities."

Gaara nearly walked into a pole.

"Sometimes, it seemed as though I was the one putting in most of the effort, but I know they cared as much as I did," Lee continued, still gazing at the sky. "Otherwise, they would not have gone out of their way to make sure that I had a good time as well!"

"Okay," Gaara cut in, unable to listen any longer. "I get it."

Lee glanced over curiously. "Why do you think I should turn him down?"

"Because I can't stand the thought of you needing someone else. Because even though I don't deserve to touch you, nobody else does, either. Because you wished, you promised, that we'd be together always." The words were on the tip of Gaara's tongue. He swallowed them, and they sank like stones into his stomach. "Things are fine like this," he finally said. "You don't need to change anything."

"That is true," Lee conceded. "I am quite content with the way things are now. To be honest, the reason I nearly turned him down to begin with was because I wanted to enjoy my high school years to the fullest with you." He smiled at his friend.

Gaara found his mouth curving upward in return.

"And besides," Lee added cheerfully, "it is not as though I cannot participate in activities with him even if I reject his offer!" He turned around, missing the other's alarmed expression.

Later, Gaara was wondering just how to broach the topic of these activities when there was a commotion in the hallway. He walked out of the classroom to see the captain grabbing his friend's wrist.

"You can't say no, there's no one else it can be! Please reconsider!"

Gaara had to violently suppress the urge to rip that hand away and shove its owner into a wall. Instead, he stalked over and met the third year's gaze, a thinly veiled glare in his eyes. "Let go of him."

"No," came the stubborn reply. "Not until he agrees."

Lee looked apologetic. "I am sorry, Captain, but I do not think I am ready for such a thing."

"How can you say that? You agreed to the same thing all those other times. You should have so much experience by now!"

Gaara was about to smash the upperclassman's face into the floor when he felt Lee throw an arm around him. "Yes, but that was before I started attending school with my best friend! I am afraid that I cannot dedicate time to being captain of the martial arts team at present."

Gaara's brain stalled. "What?"

Lee blinked at the boy. "We discussed this earlier. Did you not agree that I should refuse?"

Gaara closed his eyes and processed this information. When he opened them again, he said slowly, "He was asking you to become captain?"

"Yes," Lee replied, a tad confused. "Just like the other offers I told you about, the ones I ended up accepting."

"The activities," Gaara started.

"What about our club activities?" The other went silent, and Lee turned to the third year with a smile. "Really, Captain, your position is well-earned. I heard that you have always been one of the team's most dedicated members. You should do that effort justice and finish the year properly."

The upperclassman sighed and let go. "Fine. I know when someone is more suited for a role than I am, and I really think the team would do better under your leadership. But I'll accept your decision."

"Thank you." Lee beamed. "Perhaps I will try for the position next year." As the captain left and the onlookers dispersed, he felt a pull at his arm. He glanced over to see his friend turning and leading him toward their classroom.

"Let's go," came the gruff voice.

"Sure," Lee agreed, wondering whether the brief glimpse of sheer relief on Gaara's face had been imagined.

_

As a part-time business consultant, Rasa spent much of his day at home. It became routine for him to hear the click of the door and the tread of two pairs of feet late in the afternoon. On occasion, the duo passed the time at Lee's house, but since the boy's parents were often busy with work, they usually ended up at Gaara's place anyway.

"We're home, Father."

The dry greeting was followed by a cheery, "Hello, Uncle!"

When Lee first discovered that the man he had been addressing with such casual ease was the former CEO of a multibillion-dollar company, he had been quite flustered, but finally asked in an uncharacteristically shy tone if he could continue using the nickname, his reason being that he had no other relatives around.

Rasa had looked at the nervous boy, pointedly ignoring the heavy stare of his youngest son, and agreed.

In the present, the man left his study to greet the pair, who had settled in the living room. "Welcome back. Staying for dinner again, Lee?"

The boy looked up with a bright smile. "If you will have me!"

"Don't worry about that." Rasa waved a hand, heading for the kitchen to start on the meal. After all, he knew that staying for dinner was nearly always his son's idea.

These days, Lee's parents were rarely at home to eat, let alone cook. Gaara was not about to let his friend consume takeout in an empty house more than once a week, so he regularly ensured the other's presence at supper.

Rasa did not mind. Lee had grown up alongside his own children, bringing a warmth to the household that he could not supply. Nickname or not, he considered the boy family, and subsequently altered all of his recipes to serve an additional mouth.

The one time Lee had tried to give Rasa money, saying something about ingredient costs and inconvenience, he had stared the boy in the eye and said in a deadpan, "Are you trying to pay your own uncle for food?" The startled look he received had been expected, but the beaming smile that followed had caught him a little off guard.

_

Gaara stared at the giant lunch pail in front of his face. The three-tiered behemoth stared back. He looked at his friend, the question evident in his gaze.

Lee smiled and thrust the container a little closer. "Take it!"

So Gaara did.

Lee lifted his own lunch pail. "I made these myself."

Gaara processed this. "You cook?"

Lee rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I am trying to learn," he admitted. "I cannot rely on Uncle to make me food forever, after all."

Gaara's mouth turned down imperceptibly. Perhaps the boy was tiring of their dinners together.

"I hope you do not mind playing the guinea pig," Lee said with a grin. "If nothing else, I believe this is more palatable than what the school typically serves for lunch on Tuesdays."

Gaara took stock of the dishes. The tomato and egg stir fry was fragrant, if a little burnt, and the pork belly was inundated with chilis, but nicely browned. The neatly packed rice had a smiley face on it.

"I did not have time to try them, so I cannot attest to the taste, but rest assured that I will be enduring everything alongside you," Lee said cheerfully, and handed the other a pair of chopsticks.

Gaara tried the pork belly first. His lack of a reaction could have meant any number of things, but his friend was used to reading his silences by now.

"What is it?" Lee asked immediately, worry in his eyes. He took a bite himself, chewing thoughtfully. "Is it really that bad? I think it is quite tasty." He reached over to sample the other's portion, and came to the same conclusion.

Meanwhile, Gaara could not feel his tongue. He could handle spicy dishes just fine, but that thing was something that had no business masquerading as food. "Less chili," he said finally.

Lee jotted down the feedback in his notepad. "I knew your opinion would be invaluable, my friend!"

Gaara chose not to mention that his advice was something any human with a tongue could have given. He moved on to the stir-fried tomato and eggs. Despite the burnt undertones, the savory flavors mixed well together, and were a welcome reprieve from the last dish. "It's good."

Lee brightened. "That is wonderful! I know it is somewhat overcooked, but I will be sure to fix that next time."

From then on, Lee brought lunch for two most days. Gaara supposed there was some upside to his friend's new hobby, even if it meant that the boy would stop coming over for dinner. But when Lee showed up at his house with a covered dish and a proud look on his face, he realized that he need not have worried.

_

Gaara looked around in the crowd for Lee. His friend had told him to wait at the fountain, saying something about a surprise. He had instantly agreed, and cleared his schedule for Saturday. Not long after arriving, he spied a black mop of hair heading his way.

"Gaara!" A gleeful shout and wave greeted him.

"Lee." Gaara met the boy halfway. "What did you want to show me?"

Lee pulled out two slips of paper and brandished them enthusiastically. "Let us go to the amusement park!"

Gaara plucked one of the slips out of the air and inspected it. A shiny ticket winked back at him. He looked at his friend. "You bought these?"

"I won them in a raffle," Lee explained, grinning. "Shall we be off?"

One train ride later, they stood at the gates of the park. Lee looked around eagerly. "This brings back quite a few memories."

Gaara agreed. His father had taken them, along with his siblings, to the amusement park on several occasions when they were younger. "You could never ride the Sonic Boom without getting dizzy," he recalled.

Lee flushed. "I am sure that it will be a different story now!"

Gaara glanced over with a glint in his eye. "Let's find out."

As it turned out, Lee's acute susceptibility to motion sickness had not changed. He stumbled off the platform, clutching his head and leaning heavily on his friend. "Luckily I have not eaten yet, otherwise it would have come back up," he said with a groan.

Gaara brought the boy over to a bench. "You skipped breakfast?"

Lee flopped against the seat and gave the other a bright smile. "I wanted to start our day as soon as possible!"

"I'll buy you something to eat," Gaara decided. "What do you want?"

Lee perked up. "Lamb skewers would be delightful!" He bounced to his feet, wobbled, then promptly fell back down onto the bench.

"Just sit and rest. I'll get them." After making sure the boy would listen, Gaara headed off. Fortunately, the skewer stand was still where he remembered it, and he got in line.

"You there, sir!"

Gaara swiveled his head to stare at the person shouting at him.

The man seemed daunted at suddenly being faced with a glare, but powered through bravely. "Did you come here with someone?"

"Yes."

The woman next to the man brightened. "Perfect! Would you two mind taking a second to fill out this quiz? It's a game of sorts, and we're asking people all over the park to participate. You have a chance to win a prize!"

Gaara saw no reason not to. The line was long, and he would be waiting several minutes before he could order. "Fine."

"Excellent!" The man shoved a clipboard into the other's hands. "Where is your companion?"

"He's on the bench by the Sonic Boom."

"He?" The woman blinked, but recovered quickly. "Great, I'll go and give him a copy, too. When you're done, just give the quiz to this fellow. Thanks for your cooperation!"

Gaara picked up the attached pen and studied the paper.

As a child, what did your companion want to be when they grew up?

Countless dreams and aspirations had passed between them when they were little. But the biggest one, Gaara recalled, was their plan to become ninja together. He and Lee had honed their skills through all sorts of challenges, with an earnestness befitting zealous children. They had even practiced leaping between tree branches at one point. It was a miracle neither of them broke their neck during that endeavor.

What is your companion's least favorite household chore?

Lee had always disliked washing dishes, but that loathing only intensified once the boy started learning to cook. Gaara could not count the number of times his friend had complained to him about how vexing it was to see stacks of pots and pans in the sink after an entire afternoon spent in the kitchen.

What is your companion's favorite smell?

For as far back as Gaara could remember, Lee had been partial to a certain variety of scented candle. The fragrance, Desert Sands, was only available from one brand, and every year the boy ordered several large jars to last through the months.

The questions continued to the bottom of the page. Gaara answered them all with barely a thought, and held out the clipboard.

The man stared at the other with something akin to astonishment. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he cleared his throat. "There's a back."

Gaara turned the paper over.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

The questions all echoed the ones on the other side. Gaara began scribbling down answers.

What is your least favorite household chore?

Gaara harbored a special hatred for doing laundry. He had become quite adept at avoiding any stains on his clothing as a result. In fact, during his time as the Self-Loving Demon, the threat of scrubbing out bloodstains by hand was a remarkable incentive to prevent his opponents from landing a hit.

What is your favorite smell?

Following a spell of rain, Gaara would often take the time to go outside and breathe in the air. He was fond of that aroma for a simple reason. It was exactly how Lee smelled after coming out of the shower.

By the time Gaara reached the end of the twenty or so questions, the line had diminished considerably. He handed the materials to the man and turned to the cashier, the order rolling off his tongue easily.

Lee's eyes lit up at his friend's return. "You remembered the extra seasoning!"

Gaara handed the boy the skewers. "Hard to forget after all the times you've ordered it."

Lee dug in eagerly. "Oh, just now there was a woman who asked me to fill out a quiz. She said that you were doing the same."

"Yeah. Some kind of game." Gaara took a bite of his own portion. "How're you feeling?"

Lee beamed. "My head is no longer spinning, and I feel no urge to regurgitate this delicious treat, so I would say I have completely recovered!"

"Good."

Lee raised a clenched fist. "I will conquer that ride someday," he vowed.

Gaara hoped that day would not be soon. It felt rather nice when his friend clung to him for support. "It might happen if you practiced enough," he said instead. With a faint grin, he suggested, "We could go again."

Lee let out an involuntary squeak and shook his head vehemently. "That is quite all right! I am in no rush." Hastily, he added, "What do you say we visit the game booths instead?"

"Fine by me." Gaara polished off his skewers and threw away the refuse. "Bet I can beat you at the basketball toss."

"You are on, my friend!" Lee finished his snack in two bites, balled up the napkin, and shot it into the trash can. He grinned at the other. "Are you intimidated yet?"

"Let's see you replicate that when the basket is more than a meter away," came the dry reply.

Chapter Text

They made their way to the game booths and solemnly took up position. Surrounding parkgoers gave them a wide berth, sensing the unusually intense aura projecting from the pair.

"Loser buys lunch," Gaara asserted, picking up a ball.

Lee hummed. "Let us up the stakes. The loser will also do something of the winner's choosing."

Gaara blinked at his friend, wondering what had induced the boy to add such a condition. "Fine."

The basketball toss game had a rule that anyone with a perfect score could go again for free, on top of winning a prize. The booth manager was beginning to greatly regret this rule. The two maniacs of unknown origin had not missed a single shot yet, and together had deprived him of two-thirds of his stock. A crowd had even gathered to witness the spectacle.

The pair did not notice, too caught up in their competition. Finally, a mistake. Lee aimed a mite too far to the left, and the ball wobbled on the rim and fell out. Gaara finished without a miss, ending the contest.

Lee shook his head mournfully as they walked off, having distributed the prizes to the crowd. "I do not understand," he lamented. "It was only reasonable that I should win. I was captain of the basketball team!"

"Can't rest on your laurels," Gaara returned blandly. "I want noodles."

"Very well." Lee sighed. "I suppose it is only fair after you bought the skewers."

Gaara glanced at the boy. "I also get to ask you to do one thing."

"That is right." Lee tilted his head. "What will you have me do?"

Gaara considered. "Tell me what your request would have been."

Lee blinked. Then, he smiled. "I was going to ask you to accompany me here again sometime!"

Gaara stopped and stared. "I would've done that anyway."

"Yes, but was it not more exciting to make it part of the challenge?" Lee beamed.

Gaara abruptly turned and resumed walking. "Forget noodles, I want steak."

"What? But that will use up all my spending money for the month!"

In the end, Gaara took pity on his friend and compromised with beef noodle soup. With full bellies, they strolled down the streets of the amusement park.

Lee stopped in front of an ominous building. "Oh, it is the haunted house." He grinned at the other. "Do you remember the time we snuck in here?"

Gaara remembered, all right. His father had not allowed them to go because Kankuro refused to step foot inside, so they had slipped in by themselves. The escapade had ended with him kicking an employee in the shin for scaring his friend.

Lee was already heading for the door. "Let us go inside! I want to see if it has changed any."

The first stretch of hallway was the same, as far as Gaara could tell. The floorboards creaked, and cobwebs hung in clusters from the ceiling. The dim, flickering light of a broken chandelier lit their path.

A piercing cry sounded just as they turned the corner, and Lee laughed. "I was expecting that! I remember how I jumped the first time!" The end of the sentence turned into a yelp as a figure rushed toward them from the shadows and vanished just as quickly.

"So they did change some things," Gaara mused.

"Did you see its eyes? They were red!" Lee whispered, staring bug-eyed at where the phantom had disappeared.

"Ready to leave?" Gaara asked, casting a glance at the boy.

The words seemed to revitalize Lee. "Never!" he cried, pumping a fist skyward. "Onward, my friend!"

They made their way through the corridors, noting what had changed and what had not. While much of the house remained the same, the props now told the story of a malicious demon who had possessed a serving boy and slaughtered the entire family, along with the other servants. Every room housed yet another gruesome death, eldritch markings painted on the walls in what was ostensibly blood.

Lee became more acclimated to the specter with each appearance, and even gave chase a few times, likely to the astonishment of the actor inside. As the haunted house neared its end, evidenced by the rapidly flickering lights and crescendoing wind noises, the final form of the apparition revealed itself.

Lee, thoroughly enjoying himself, thrust a finger at the fiend. "Begone from this house, demon, and leave these poor spirits in peace!" Suddenly, a sinister rumble came from behind, and he turned his head to see another figure stalking toward them. To his horror, he realized that this one had glowing red eyes.

Gaara saw his friend freeze as they were slowly sandwiched by the two monsters. In a flash, he threw the boy over his shoulder and sped past the first creature toward the exit.

Lee sputtered as he was unceremoniously hefted like a sack of potatoes. He twisted to look at the other as they emerged into the light of day. "Gaara, what are you doing?"

"Getting you out of there."

Lee scratched his head. "I appreciate the sentiment, but you did not have to go that far."

"You're heavier than I expected," Gaara said in lieu of a reply, setting the boy down.

Lee gave a sheepish smile. "It is because I am wearing weights."

Gaara glanced at his friend. "You used to do that before."

"Yes, as part of our ninja training!" Lee exclaimed, nodding vigorously. "Nowadays, I have found it a useful tool to augment my speed for wushu." He tapped his chin. "I suggested it to my captain and teammates, but they did not seem very enthusiastic."

The sky had started to pinken. Gaara surmised that it was early evening. "We should head back soon."

Lee hummed. "You are right. But first, there is one last thing I want to do."

Gaara followed the boy's gaze. "Why the Ferris wheel?"

Lee grinned at the other. "It will be fun! And we have never been on it before."

That was how they found themselves sitting together in a car, slowly ascending to the top.

"Oh, you can see the train station from here!" Lee cried, looking out the window eagerly.

Gaara leaned back against the seat and watched his friend gush over the view. The last rays of sunlight poured into the car, suffusing everything with a warm, rosy glow. Suddenly, the boy grabbed his arm.

"Gaara! Look!"

They were at the pinnacle of the Ferris wheel. The setting sun greeted them from the horizon, coloring the sky pink and orange. The city reflected the brilliant hues, laid out before them like a painting. They stared, mesmerized, until the car dipped below the treetops.

As they disembarked and headed toward the park exit, a voice issued from the speakers.

"Greetings, parkgoers! We hope you're all enjoying your time here today. We're about to announce the winners of today's special event, the Couple's Quiz! In this game, players answered two dozen questions about their significant other without any clues, and wrote down what their own answers would be. Our team compared each set of papers and tallied up the matching replies, and the results are now available!"

A festive drumroll.

"Ladies and gentleman, are you ready? The victors of this edition of the Couple's Quiz, with an astonishing perfect score from both parties, are participants forty-nine and fifty, Gaara and Lee! A hearty congratulations to the lucky duo! Please visit the nearest service desk to claim your prize."

The pair stared at each other. Lee was the first to speak. "That was a couple's quiz?"

"I didn't know," Gaara replied immediately. He replayed the conversation with the man and woman from earlier, and his face darkened. "Those people never told me."

"The woman said nothing of the sort, either." Lee looked thoughtful. "Most likely it is all a misunderstanding. We should inform them of this quickly."

"Or we could just leave."

"Nonsense," Lee admonished. "Some real couple may be delighted to receive the prize. We should tell the workers so that they can name an appropriate winner."

Gaara pinched the bridge of his nose and followed his friend.

At the service desk, Lee explained the situation while the other stood stone-faced at his side. To their bewilderment, the workers only exchanged amused glances.

"It's quite all right, you know," one woman said kindly. "We harbor no judgment. The prize is yours, so please accept it."

"I do not think you understand, ma'am," Lee insisted, a little desperately. "We truly are not involved in that way, so it would be best if you simply chose another couple."

"Look," a man cut in, "I don't care if you're together or not, getting a perfect score like that is damn impressive. Hell, I couldn't answer more than half the questions on there about my best friend, and I've known the guy since we were in diapers."

That stumped Lee long enough for the woman at the desk to push a thin box into the boy's hands. "He's right, dear. You two won this fair and square, so be sure to enjoy your reward."

Gaara, who was getting fed up with all of the people in the back giving them knowing looks, tugged his friend away. "Don't worry about it, Lee. Let's go."

As they exited the amusement park, Lee untied the bow around the rectangular box and lifted the lid. A voucher for a five-star restaurant stared back at them.

Gaara glanced at the prize. "Looks like we'll get that steak after all."

_

It was a sad truth that fine dining establishments did not offer takeout. Gaara and Lee were not ones to pass up free food, however, and so the following week saw them donning suits in Gaara's room.

"I did not think I would have to think about formalwear until graduation," Lee said, fiddling with his tie.

Gaara shrugged, buttoning his sleeves. "They'll probably kick us out if we show up in anything less."

Rasa caught sight of the pair as they headed downstairs, doing a double take at their attire. "What's the occasion?"

"We have a voucher for Whimsy."

"That high-end restaurant in the city?" Rasa eyed them curiously. "Where did you get something like that?"

Lee flushed. "Well, at the amusement park," he started, then faltered, unable to continue.

"Won it from the basketball toss," Gaara said shortly.

Rasa raised an eyebrow. "The basketball toss." Several moments of silence passed. Then he shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "I see. Well, enjoy yourselves." The duo rushed out the door in thinly veiled relief.

At the restaurant, the host looked confused at seeing two teenagers until they handed her the voucher. Then she broke out into a smile. "Oh, so you're the young couple that won the prize! Congratulations!"

"We aren't a couple," Gaara interrupted. The night was going to be a long one if that misconception continued.

"We are simply friends who participated in the game by accident and won," Lee elaborated sheepishly.

The woman adjusted quickly. "Oh, of course, my apologies. I didn't mean to presume. At any rate, I hope you two enjoy your meal tonight. Your server will return with the first course shortly."

Once they were seated, Lee stared at the neat row of utensils before him. "Why do we need six forks?"

Meanwhile, Gaara's eyes were fixed on the heart-shaped candelabrum in the center of the table, as though he could will it away if he glared hard enough. Finally, he gave up, lifting his gaze to his friend's. "Let's grab the food once it gets here and make a run for it."

Lee tapped his chin, frowning in thought. "That will not work. The dishes come out one course at a time, so we will be forfeiting most of the meal."

A man approached their table, carrying a chair. "A bench for the lady's purse." The words cut off as he caught sight of the pair. Without missing a beat, he swiveled around and marched back the other way.

Lee's smile was a little strained. "Perhaps we can wait until the main course arrives and then make a run for it."

In the end, they stayed for the whole meal. Dessert was worth an hour or so of awkwardness, they agreed, especially when it was free. Afterward, they left the restaurant and began walking back to the train station.

Lee exhaled into the brisk night air and stretched leisurely. "Even with the small portion sizes, I am stuffed to the brim!"

"They'd probably make a lot more money if they started doing takeout," Gaara mused.

Lee grinned. "Would the food come with a purse chair?"

"And six different forks," Gaara returned. As they talked, he became aware of a presence lurking to their rear. It followed them doggedly, drawing closer with every step. He stopped in front of a convenience store.

Lee halted as well. "What is it, my friend?"

Gaara patted his pocket and frowned. "I want some water, but I didn't bring my wallet."

Lee brightened. "I would be happy to buy some for you!"

"Thanks. I'll wait here." As soon as the boy went inside, Gaara turned and strolled idly down the street. Suddenly, he broke into a run and turned into an alleyway, catching the man inside off guard.

The would-be mugger wheezed as the wind was knocked out of him, the knife clattering from his grip.

"Did you see the suits and think we'd be easy targets? Big mistake." Gaara punctuated each sentence by driving a fist into the stranger's diaphragm. Before delivering the final blow, he looked into terrified eyes. "Don't try something like this again." He left the unconscious body in the darkened alley and returned to the store just in time to see his friend emerge.

"Here is your water!" Lee paused, noticing the other's rumpled clothes. "What happened to your suit?"

Gaara took a drink and recapped the bottle. "You were taking too long, so I jogged up and down the street a few times."

Lee gasped in mock offense. "My friend, are you insinuating that I am slow? I challenge you to a race, right now!"

"You're on." A grin flickered over Gaara's face. "First one to the train station wins." And they were off.

Running right after a large meal was not the best idea, as they soon discovered. But it hardly mattered when they arrived home together, doubled over with cramps and laughter.

_

As school president, Gaara often found himself helping out various clubs when they requested his assistance. From carrying equipment to brainstorming ideas to mediating disputes, he simply considered it part of his duty.

This, however, was getting ridiculous.

Gaara had been heading to lunch with Lee when they were approached by another student, who introduced herself as a member of the drama club and promptly dropped to the floor in supplication. "President, we're in dire need of your assistance!"

Gaara pinched the bridge of his nose. It always wore him out to deal with theater kids. "Stand up. What's the problem?"

The girl rose and explained the situation. Two of the club's actors had broken their legs in a hiking accident, and would be unable to participate in the spring production. "So that's why we need you to fill in, President!"

Gaara's first instinct was to refuse adamantly, but Lee's presence compelled him to be gracious about it. "I have no experience acting," he said instead. "You're better off asking someone else."

"Don't worry about that! The role isn't difficult at all," the girl replied cheerfully. "And no one else will do."

"Why?"

The girl grinned and answered, "The guy you're filling in for is extremely popular. His fans make up half the ticket sales alone. But you have as many admirers as he does, President. Including you is the only way we won't disappoint the audience!"

Lee laughed. "You are indeed well-liked, my friend! I am sure that many people are eager to see you on stage."

The girl suddenly whirled to face the boy. "You're that guy who wins every martial arts tournament for us, right? It'd be great if you could fill in, too!"

Lee scratched his cheek. "Are you sure? I would be happy to help, but like Gaara, I have no experience with theater."

The girl held up a hand. "Not a problem! Pleased to have you on board." She turned back to look expectantly at the president.

And that was how Gaara found himself joining the drama club for rehearsal later that day.

The student director clapped his hands for attention. "Okay, we'll start by familiarizing our newest members with the script."

Gaara took the booklet he was handed and looked at the cover. Fairy Tales Revisited, it said.

"It's a collection of reworked versions of familiar stories," the director explained. "For example, Cinderella is a wanted criminal who intentionally hides her identity, Sleeping Beauty is a mad scientist who tests a sleeping potion on herself, Puss in Boots is a bumbling idiot who constantly has to be rescued by his master, and so on."

Lee flipped through the booklet eagerly. "Which fairy tale will we be doing?"

"You two are part of the third act, Little Red Riding Hood. You'll play Red, and the president will play the wolf."

"Is it really okay to have a guy play Little Red Riding Hood?" a second year asked.

The director shrugged. "It doesn't impact the story, so it's fine. Anyway, in this version, Red comes from a family of hunters. Due to recent cases of wolves killing and eating people, villagers are warned to be cautious in the woods. On the way to Grandma's, a wolf appears and tries to steal Red's basket. He claims that hunters have wiped out all the prey animals, and denies that wolves have been attacking people. Red is dubious, but gives him some food before leaving."

"And then?" Lee asked, enthralled.

"Red arrives at Grandma's to find a group of hunters holding a meeting. It turns out that they've been killing people and blaming the deaths on wolves to increase funding for the Hunter's Guild. Red nearly becomes their next victim, but is saved by the wolf. After revealing the plot to the villagers, the murderers are brought to justice, and the wolves no longer go hungry as prey animals repopulate."

"What a riveting tale! I cannot wait to see it in action!" Lee bounced in his seat with excitement.

The director grinned. "That's the kind of enthusiasm I like to hear. How about we do a quick reading of the first scene right now?"

Chapter Text

Everything went smoothly until Gaara's appearance as the wolf. The stage directions should have been the first clue. Wolf stalks out from stage left and pins Red against tree.

"We don't have the tree right now, so just use the wall," said the director.

Stiffly, Gaara placed one hand against the wall by his friend's head.

The director shook his head. "No, that won't cut it. Think aggressive and forceful, President. We want the audience to think Red is in danger." There was a thud as the boy's hand met the wall, making half the people in the room jump. "Perfect."

Gaara glanced at the script. "Do you know who I am?"

Red turns and looks wide-eyed at Wolf. "What a deep voice you have, sir!" Lee read from the booklet.

"All the better to greet you with."

"Goodness, what big eyes you have!"

"All the better to see you with."

"And what big ears you have!"

"All the better to hear you with."

"Oh, what a big nose you have!"

Wolf leans in close to Red's neck. Gaara stiffly inclined his face toward the boy's collar, a litany of curses running through his head. "All the better to smell you with," he ground out.

"I know who you are!" Lee declared, thrusting a finger into the air. "The baker's son, Big Face Billy!" A ripple of laughter came from the club members.

"Wrong," said Gaara. "I'm the Big Bad Wolf, and you're going to hand over that basket."

Lee gasped. "A wolf?" He clutched the imaginary basket closer. "No, you cannot have it! This is for my poor, sick grandmother, who needs it to recover her strength."

"You don't seem to be lying," Gaara replied. "Fine. I'll let you go." Wolf turns to leave.

"Wait!" Lee cried. "Have you been stealing food from travelers? How despicable!"

"I wouldn't have to if your hunters hadn't killed off all the prey in the forest," Gaara retorted. "My pack is starving, and it's all because of you humans."

Lee frowned. "That still does not make it right for you to kill and eat people!"

"Eat people?" Gaara scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. My pack has never killed a single human."

Lee shook his head. "How can that be? Everyone in the village knows that six people have died in the last month to wolf attacks."

"That's a lie. Whatever killed them, it wasn't a wolf."

"You do not seem like someone who would do such a thing," Lee admitted. "Maybe the culprits are bad wolves you do not know about." Red rummages around in basket. "I cannot give you Grandmother's food, but here. This is my lunch and dinner."

Wolf accepts offered parcel with surprise. Red exits.

A smattering of applause. "Not bad for a first go," the director judged.

"But," a first year said, grinning.

"But," the director conceded, "there are a lot of places to improve. You need to be more sinister, President. At this point, the audience doesn't know whether you're a villain or not, and your portrayal should be ambiguous. What's more, your entire exchange with Red in the beginning was stilted. Your replies must be dark, intense, almost sultry. The tension builds to the moment where you lean in, so it's important for that motion to look smooth rather than strained."

Gaara had a sinking feeling that participating in the play was going to require a lot more investment than he had previously anticipated. He was also fairly certain that speaking in a sultry manner to his friend was flat out not going to happen.

"Lee, you strike a nice balance of innocence and indignation in your portrayal, which is crucial to the character. But I noticed you stumbling over contractions like can't and don't in the dialogue. That's something to work on going forward. In addition, you need to appear genuinely scared during the first part of your encounter with the wolf. That heightens the comedic value of you mistaking him for Big Face Billy."

Lee nodded, scribbling the feedback into his notepad. At the last piece of advice, he looked up, smiling. "Noted! I simply find it rather difficult to see my friend in a frightening light."

"Are you serious?" one third year asked, incredulous. "Of all people, the president is the one you can't imagine as scary?"

Lee blinked at the speaker. "Yes, why?"

The third year suddenly paled. "No reason," he stuttered, and headed for the door. "I'm not feeling too well. Gonna step outside for a bit."

"Will he be all right?" Lee asked worriedly. "The school nurse has left already."

The director waved a hand. "He'll be fine. Let's try that read-through again."

Gaara wiped the murderous glare from his face and flipped back to the beginning of the script with an inward sigh.

The director nodded once they finished. "I can see that you're keeping my advice in mind, Lee. Keep it up. And President, while you've certainly achieved the sinister impression we want, your delivery in the beginning is still lacking." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then clapped his hands. "All right, that's all I needed from you two today. Thanks again for helping out."

At the next rehearsal, the director waved Gaara and Lee over as soon as they walked in. "Since you're having some trouble with the start of the scene, President, I figured it'd be helpful for you to see a concrete example." He glanced at the doorway. "There he is."

Lively conversation broke out as a person in a cast sauntered into the room on a crutch.

"Hey, Migi, looking good, man!"

"Must have been one hell of a hiking trip."

"It's been lonely without your mug around!"

The one called Migi chuckled. "After all those years of people telling me to break a leg, it finally happened." He looked at the director and gave a lazy salute. "Hidari couldn't come, she's making up a test."

"That's fine. I just need you to demonstrate the first scene of Little Red Riding Hood for your stand-in."

Migi turned to Gaara. "I heard about how they got the president himself to fill in for me. I'm honored, really." He dipped his head in a mock bow, then glanced back at the director. "So I'm showing him scene one, is that right?"

"Just the first part. Up to Big Face Billy."

"Got it." Migi straightened and looked around. "Where's my Red?"

The director gently prodded Lee forward. "Right here."

"I see." Migi gave the boy a once-over. "Interesting choice. Okay, you ready to do this?"

Lee beamed. "Yes, sir! I look forward to working with you!"

The enthusiastic reply seemed to catch Migi off guard, and his expression turned curious. "The pleasure's all mine. Ready when you are."

They launched into the scene, and Gaara tensed when the other boy cornered Lee against the wall.

"Watch carefully now," the director said.

"What a deep voice you have, sir!" Lee gasped, wide-eyed.

"All the better to greet you with," Migi purred, voice like molten gold.

Hushed squeals erupted from the spectating club members.

Lee shrank back with a gulp. Gaara only hoped the nervousness was feigned. "Goodness, what big eyes you have!"

Deliberately, Migi swept his gaze over the boy's body. "All the better to see you with."

Lee squirmed under the other's scrutiny. "And what big ears you have!"

"All the better to hear you with," Migi replied with a smirk.

"Oh, what a big nose you have!" Lee stared fearfully into the other's face. The club members held their breath as the wolf slowly leaned in. Before Gaara realized it, he was crossing the room in long strides.

Migi blinked as his acting partner was pulled out from under him. He turned his head to see an expressionless redhead planted in front of the boy.

"I've seen enough."

There was a tense pause. Then Migi shrugged and smiled. "Great. Should've known you'd be a quick learner, President."

The director considered them briefly. "Well, if you think you're ready, shall we try the scene with you and Lee?"

Gaara set his jaw. He had to perform adequately, or else he would be forced to watch someone else do it instead.

So when Lee turned around with wide eyes and said his line, Gaara positively rumbled, "All the better to greet you with."

"Goodness, what big eyes you have!"

Gaara pinned the other with his gaze. "All the better to see you with."

"And what big ears you have!"

Gaara angled his head toward the boy's own ear. "All the better to hear you with."

"Oh, what a big nose you have!"

Without hesitation, Gaara leaned in close and nosed at his friend's neck. "All the better to smell you with," he growled, each word dripping like poisoned honey from his tongue.

The classroom was deathly silent. Then, applause and excited murmurs broke out.

"Impressive," said the director, smiling. "Not only did your delivery capture all of the qualities I noted before, but you also displayed an unmistakably threatening aura the whole time. It really added to the atmosphere of danger that the scene aims to convey."

"It's a bit of a different interpretation than mine," Migi noted. He eyed Gaara thoughtfully. "I look forward to seeing the rest of your performance, President." On his way to the door, he threw Lee a passing wink. "Yours, too, of course."

Gaara glowered the entire way home.

_

The next few rehearsals passed smoothly for Gaara, as the wolf did not show up until well into the second scene. He still attended, if only to ensure that something questionable did not happen to his friend again.

The respite did not last, and one afternoon the director waved Gaara over again. "Today we're rehearsing the climax of the story, where the wolf swoops in to rescue Red from the hunters. There are hardly any lines, which you may appreciate, but you will have to carry and run with Lee the entire length of the stage."

Gaara nodded. That was doable.

The director clapped his hands. "All right, let's give it a try."

When the actors playing the hunters were advancing on Lee, Gaara followed the script and rushed in. "I've got you," he announced, tossing the boy over his shoulder and running to the other end of the room. When he stopped and turned around, the club members were giving him strange looks.

The director hummed. "That isn't exactly what I meant when I said carry."

Gaara stared at the third year blankly.

Lee appeared just as confused. "What did you mean?"

"You know, the typical fairy tale kind. Princess carry, bridal carry, surely you've heard of it. One arm lifts the legs while the other supports the back. If you need a demonstration, someone here could show you."

"That won't be necessary," Gaara cut in, before anyone could get ideas about picking his friend up like a bride.

The directory shrugged. "I suppose I should have been clearer, but I thought it was obvious." After a beat, he acknowledged, "Our Red is a guy, so he's probably heavier than the scriptwriters had intended. Try picking him up now, President, and see if you think you can run with him."

Lee bent to undo his weights. Straightening, he laughed. "That should make things easier!"

Gaara wondered how the boy could be so nonchalant about this.

Lee only grinned and gave a thumbs up. "I trust you not to drop me, my friend!"

Gaara's mouth quirked. "Don't count on it." Pushing all doubts away to analyze later, he slid a hand behind the boy's knees and straightened in one smooth motion. Without the weights, Lee was not heavy at all, or perhaps that was just relativity speaking. He made the mistake of looking into his friend's face and stilled. Those black orbs blinking up at him in such close proximity made his heart stutter for reasons unknown.

Nobody seemed to notice Gaara's inner turmoil. "Well?" asked the director after a beat. "Think you can run with him? We're looking at about ten meters from one end of the stage to the other."

"Yes." Gaara tore his eyes away and set his friend down.

"Great. Dependable as ever, President. Let's try that scene again."

The actors resumed their positions. When it came time for the wolf's appearance, Gaara steeled himself and sprinted toward the boy.

Lee let out a startled, breathless, "Oh!" as he was swept off his feet, the line he had forgotten to include earlier.

"I've got you," Gaara promised, and ran.

"Nicely done," the director said when it was over. "The third scene is just wrapping up all the loose ends of the narrative. After that, we'll run dress rehearsals until opening night."

_

The costumes had Gaara seriously reconsidering his decision to join the play. First, there was the small problem that his friend would be clad in a dress.

Lee's face was understandably bewildered as he lifted and turned the piece of clothing in his hands. "Is this what I will be wearing?"

The costume designer scratched her cheek. "Yeah. I got caught up in costumes for the other acts, and kind of forgot to make another one for Red. I could try to fix something up before the play, but I still have to do fittings for Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty's gowns, and add embellishments to all of the Prince Charming suits, and replume Puss in Boots's hat..."

Lee shook his head. "Oh, no, do not trouble yourself! That is quite all right. But, well, I am most likely a different size than the previous Little Red Riding Hood."

The costume designer sighed with relief. "Don't worry about that. I can loosen the bodice." She paused before adding apologetically, "There's nothing I can do about the length, though, so it may be a little short on you." The knee-length dress came down to Lee's thigh, to the amusement of the club members. Gaara, for his part, was not laughing.

If that were not bad enough, the wolf's costume could barely be considered an outfit at all. The vest had no buttons or zipper, and its obscenely fluffy collar was possibly the most ostentatious thing Gaara had ever laid eyes on. The pants were plain, thankfully, save for the lupine tail that was made of the same material as the ears sewn on the vest's hood.

The costume designer caught the other staring, and shrugged helplessly. "Migi has a lot of fans, as you know, and in every production he wears something like this to indulge them. Is it that much of a problem?"

Gaara glanced at his friend, who was tugging down the hem of the dress with a nervous smile. If Lee could endure, he would, too. "No."

Gaara had a week to get used to doing the scenes in costume, which was good because he nearly dropped Lee the first time he picked his friend up and felt the boy's bare thigh against his skin.

The day of the play, the audience gazed at Red with a little too much appreciation for Gaara's liking. He was almost glad when the majority of the attention fell to him upon the wolf's appearance.

Maybe Lee was getting a little too into acting, because when the wolf whisked Red away, Gaara felt his friend clutch at him in a way that definitely was not in the script.

Ultimately, the play was a success. On the way home, the pair gazed up at the budding stars as they strolled side by side, faces flushed with victory while applause thrummed through their veins.

"I really thought you were going to drop me back there!" Lee said with a chuckle.

Gaara scoffed. "That was because you suddenly clung onto my neck."

Lee did not look abashed in the slightest. "I believe the audience enjoyed my bit of improvisation!" He grinned. "And here I thought all of that strain on your arms was finally taking its toll."

Gaara's eyes glinted. "I bet you I can carry you back to your house right now. With your weights." Without waiting for a reply, he hoisted the boy in his arms with a practiced motion, then took off in a run.

Lee yelped and laughed, and Gaara joined him, because it was just the two of them under the stars with no prying eyes, and that was as natural as breathing.