บท 1: Chapter 1
I stared at the sudsy water as Gaara carefully washed my hair to not reopen the wound on the side of my head.
When I let him into this bathroom, it was to bring some peace of mind to us both.
The terrified expression on his face when he realized it was me guarding Kankuro in that house said it all. He must've felt glimpses of my fear and panic over the past few days, and I was simply in too much pain and much too exhausted to comprehend anything he might've sent my way.
So, he was sitting out in the hallway arguing with himself about whether he should knock or not and offer to help me. I didn't want to be alone, either. The day that I spent alone, taking care of an unconscious Kankuro and not knowing if he would ever wake or if I'd see Gaara or Kiba ever again…. It messed me up.
As I expected, he hasn't tried a single inappropriate thing. Even when I was standing completely naked in front of him, his eyes remained on my face with an expression that said he was both nervous about being in this situation and grateful that I trusted him enough to let said situation arise.
Tears ran slowly down my face as the soapy water stung the gash on the side of my head and the claw marks on my face, arms, and hands. Everything hurts right now. If it's not the raw wounds, it's the bruises and sore muscles. And I'm so damn tired. I feel like I could sleep twenty-four hours and still not be fully rested.
Gaara probably doesn't know I'm still trying to stop crying, and I'm okay with that. It's preferable, honestly. Things have been surprisingly not that awkward, even when he got undressed and joined me in the bath rather than get his clothes all wet trying to aid me from outside the tub. I don't know if him realizing I've yet to get a hold of my emotions will ruin that.
My chin quivered, and my frown deepened when I realized the water dripping down my face, neck, and chest was dark, almost red with blood. When they found Kankuro and me, nearly every inch of my skin was covered in it, both mine and that man that I-
What I'm trying to say is that a lot of it still needs to be scrubbed away. I wouldn't be surprised to find out if my hair takes on a slight reddish tint until it's been washed at least a couple more times. There's just so much blood…
My head hurts. It's throbbed endlessly since I received the injury, and it's beginning to make me worry that the concussion I undoubtedly obtained might be worse than I previously imagined.
My throat hurts, too. Just the memory of that awful man gripping his large hand around it as firmly as possible is almost enough to throw me into a panic attack, another reason I let Gaara come in here. My mind's less likely to replay the memory on repeat, with him acting as a distraction.
It feels selfish using him like this, and I'm almost sure he knows it, but if I was in here alone, I don't know if I'd keep it together if I were in here alone. Now that I know I'm not in danger and no longer have to stay on guard, all the pent-up terror and remorse seeped from my pores.
Gaara's hands are gentle, comforting, and sweet. When he first touched my hair to start lathering shampoo, they'd been trembling, but it quickly passed. He got used to it, and now his movements feel decisive and confident.
I'm glad he didn't make me immediately face him, or else I might've gotten too overwhelmed. Allowing me to have my back turned at first like this is helping me adjust to the strange notion that I'm in the bath with a man, and we're both naked.
"Lean back."
The water moved when he adjusted himself further away so I wouldn't come into contact with his chest, and I closed my eyes as I let him help me back, brow furrowing when my head wound passed under the water's surface.
I can't look him in the eye. Not yet.
It's been my goal for the first time he, or whoever my first boyfriend was, saw me naked to be special. I'd ensure I'm well prepared for the best first impression possible. That all went down the drain when I realized he was in that hallway.
He wants to be in here as much as I need him to be. My body's in such an awful state, covered in injuries, bruises, and scars. This isn't what I wished for when I was fourteen, dreaming about someday doing adult things with a boy I love. So, I kept my eyes closed as he ran long fingers through my hair to carefully rinse the shampoo, only opening them again when he helped me sit back up and could no longer see my face.
My head spun once I was upright, and a wave of dizziness overcame me. Losing so much blood in just two days has taken its toll, and I've felt weak for hours now. I could actually feel my face paling, so I took a deep breath to keep myself steady, letting it out slowly so the boy sitting behind me won't catch on.
The last thing I want is for him to worry further. Having him and the other two fret over me all day, not to mention what he's doing for me now, makes me feel like such a burden. Kankuro hasn't even teased me once since waking, and every time I meet Kiba's eye, he's staring like I'm a sick puppy or something. Can't they worry about Kankuro for a bit? He's injured, too.
My body jolted when Gaara spoke softly, breaking me from my thoughts, "This one?"
I nodded without even looking. I don't care what soap is used. It's not like any of us are out here trying to win a beauty pageant.
If I weren't feeling so awful and shaky, I'd be blushing right about now. This man's trying so very hard to be solid for me. I'm not sure if he understands how much I appreciate it, but once my throat heals and I can speak again, I'll tell him repeatedly.
Even if I could talk right this second, I don't think I'd say much. A heavy feeling is weighing on my heart, shoulders, and chest. Being so severely hurt and looking so awful, much less in front of him, the one guy whose opinion could make or break me, is almost as scary as facing one of those men I had to fight. Almost, but not entirely.
The emotion's almost akin to shame, but I shouldn't feel that way because it's not my fault I was put up against two grown men who were twice my size and undoubtedly much stronger. The logic hasn't brought me any solace yet, though.
My body feels so heavy. It seems much harder to move and carry myself than usual.
Gaara's fingers began massaging the conditioner into my hair, and if what had just happened hadn't, I'd have likely thought it felt enjoyable. Instead, the act feels dutiful. He and I both know his intentions aren't to spoil me affectionately. The boy came in here to help me with a task that I'd likely struggle to do alone because of my injuries, not to flirt.
Soon, he had me lean back again to rinse the conditioner, and then it was finally time to turn and face him. I wiped at my tears as I turned in the large bath before reaching for the body wash soap, trying to avoid looking at him as much as possible. Thankfully he didn't offer a visible reaction to my crying.
He's likely staring to ensure I'm not hurting myself while trying to act independently, but I ignored it as I put soap on the white washcloth and rubbed it in evenly with one hand.
My broken wrist shot a harsh heat wave of pain up my tendons when I unconsciously tried to move it to assist my movements, and my teeth gritted, tears overflowing heavier in defeat as Gaara took the cloth from my hand.
We were both unsure what to do or how to act, but somehow he ended up holding a hand under my chin to keep me still as he gently tried to rid my face of the remaining dried blood while avoiding the many cuts. It seemed impossible to keep my eyes closed when his face was so close to mine, so I awkwardly kept my gaze on his neck or chest. God, I wish I could get these god-forsaken tears to stop flowing.
After rinsing the soap from my face, he continued to my neck, only to freeze with his jaw flexed and teal eyes hard. Just as I was about to offer somehow to finish up alone, he moved again, carefully turning my jaw with gentle hands so he could make sure he didn't miss any blood.
The process was slow, him helping me bathe, but I didn't mind. The moment we get done here, I'm going straight to bed even though it's barely sunset.
"You're not weak."
My eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes at the sudden break of silence. He moved naturally to my shoulders and arms without looking at my face but understood my confusion and elaborated.
"Last time we fought, I called you weak. I was wrong."
Now my inability to speak's getting in the way. I want to tell him that compared to him and everyone else in The Program, I'm undoubtedly one of the physically weakest. Still, I could only narrow my eyes and hope he could read my expression accurately. If he was, he didn't respond and simply continued working.
I thought he'd get nervous once he finished my arms because everything that remained was much more personal, but he seamlessly continued to my chest without changing his demeanor.
Once he finished everything above water, he hesitated before finally meeting my eye, "Do you want me to stop?"
I nodded, worried my already shaky body wouldn't be able to handle the panic I'd feel if he touched me somewhere more intimate than my breasts, innocently or not. He gave me the washcloth back before reaching over to grab shampoo so he could wash his own hair.
Since his eyes weren't focused on me this time, I watched as I finished carefully cleaning my body. I never noticed because he wears looser clothes, but he's pretty fit. Broad shoulders lead to toned arms and a firm chest. His skin is so pale and clear, like ivory. A beautiful statue. A work of art carved from stone. That's what he looks like.
My eyes closed when he moved to rinse his hair, not wanting to get caught staring. When he returned to continue bathing, I rinsed my body and was done, but I didn't want to get out first, so I just sank a bit lower into the water, hugging my knees to my chest at the furthest end of the tub. Then I just tried not to get caught sneaking glances at him.
Gaara is a devastatingly beautiful human being. That pale skin set against bright teal eyes and blood-red hair catches the eye in a way I've yet to witness in another person. He has attractive hands, too. His fingers are long and slender, and even if the skin is calloused, he's just as capable of being gentle as he is of causing harm.
I like him.
The fact has risen so often lately, but it's the only thought I could manage as I watched his long lashes brush his cheeks when he looked down. A warm feeling rose in my chest, and it distracted me from the pain my body was offering. I leaned over slightly to rest my temple against the side of the tub, eyes averting to the water when I thought he was about to catch me.
Gaara's just as beautiful on the inside, too. A tragic beauty formed by suffering and hate. He's like a diamond; after years of unbearable pressure, his true shine is beginning to break through. I can't wait till everyone else realizes it, too. He deserves all the love and comfort in the world.
In a blink of an eye, I was suddenly picked up with an arm under my legs and shoulders. My brow furrowed weakly as I realized in a hazy half-awake state that I must've fallen asleep in the tub. The exhaustion got the best of me again, only to relent later, and my eyes opened slowly, lids still heavy with sleep.
I was slumped against Gaara's chest as he tried his best to towel-dry my hair. My body felt even more sluggish than before. When I lifted my hand to take over the task for him, it was like a heavy-weight dumbbell.
He pulled back slightly, and I somehow managed to stay upright. Some kind of clothing was already on me, and his chest wasn't bare when I awoke against it, so he was dressed as well. It was so hard to keep my eyes open even slightly. I was so tired, but I did my best, only for him to shoo my hand away and finish drying my hair since I was somewhat upright.
In a blink, I was being carried again. A sound rumbled through my chest, hurting my throat as well. Then I felt something soft under me, likely the bed.
"Is she okay?" That was Kankuro's voice, but he was whispering, probably trying not to disturb me.
"I think she's just exhausted," that one's Gaara.
Kiba whispered next, "She did lose a lot of blood."
Something warm suddenly touched my injured arm, and my eyes shot open to see Kankuro sitting beside me on the bed with a compression wrap in hand, "Hey, sorry. Can I put this on?"
The severe tone of his voice makes me uncomfortable. I want him to return to his annoying self, something I never thought I'd prefer. Gaara came to my other side and held my arm up when it became clear that I didn't have enough energy to, and I fell in and out of sleep for a while.
I woke up slightly later on, in the middle of the night. After a few hazy moments, I realized that while Gaara had my uninjured hand grasped in one of his and my head was resting on his arm, Kankuro had also turned to throw his arm across my stomach.
Still feeling relatively shaky, I turned my head to look at him. The older Subaku still has a bandage over the cut on his jaw, and I know his arm, chest, and waist are still healing from the deep bullet-graze wounds that nearly had him bleed to death just a couple of days ago.
In a non-romantic way, I just can't push him away this time. It feels wrong now. It took him almost dying for me to realize that he was actually my friend. I care about him. So long as his need for affection doesn't cross into more than platonic territory, it doesn't seem quite so intolerable anymore.
Come morning, I woke up feeling almost worse than when I'd gone to bed. Without opening my eyes, I could tell I was alone in bed and heard the boys downstairs coming in and out of the front door, likely loading the van so we could leave.
My body feels weak and shaky, but I can't tell if I have a fever. All I know is that I'm utterly exhausted, even after sleeping all night.
A full bladder forced me to get up, and I nearly toppled to the floor when I didn't properly prepare for the rush of blood and dizziness that heated my face and made my mind spin. With a hand on my throbbing head, I stumbled into the hall and entered the bathroom. After doing my business, I brushed my teeth and hair before struggling back into the room to get dressed and finally descended the stairs.
My legs and hands trembled more with each step, and it felt like someone tied weights to my wrists and ankles. Little swirls began dancing in my vision as I pulled my coat on before sitting down to put my big winter boots on.
"You don't look so good."
I looked up at Kankuro with a wince, the bright sunlight coming in through the open front door hurting my pounding head before shaking my head. Once we get on the road, I'll try to sleep it off.
He watched as I tried to tie the strings of my shoes with one hand before kneeling in front of me, "Here, let me do it."
My head spun as he tied them, and I stared at his face with an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Kankuro looks so different when he's serious. A memory of his pale, unconscious face suddenly crossed my mind, and I surprised myself by tearing up, a tightening rising within my chest.
The man in question noticed the sudden uptake in my breathing and met my eye after finishing his task of tying my laces. For a moment, neither of us did anything, but I wanted to tell him I was sorry for how I'd treated him over the past two weeks. Since I physically couldn't, I grabbed his hand and tried to telecommunicate my guilt somehow.
His brow furrowed, surprising me because he almost seemed angry but didn't pull away. Instead, he whispered so the other two wouldn't hear, "Stop it, Matsu. I'm fine."
Gaara came in from the front door and walked past, glancing at us with a curious expression but not saying anything as he went back into the office to check for anything else we might need to bring along, I assume.
Kankuro stood and offered me his hand again to help me up. I accepted it. One moment I was on my way to my feet, and the next, I was falling back down, only for him to lurch forward and catch me, "I knew that was gonna happen. Come on. Let's go." I didn't have the energy to fight him, so he picked me up like Gaara had last night.
"What happened!" That was Kiba's voice.
"Here, can you put her in the van? My arm-" My body was passed to Kiba, I assume, and then I was carried for another moment before I entirely lost consciousness.
Someone shaking my shoulder woke me again, and when my eyes fluttered open, it was Kiba offering me a granola bar. He was reaching back from the front seat with a guilty expression, "I know you're tired, but you need to eat something." I blinked a few times, trying to chase away the exhaustion plaguing my entire being. How long have we been traveling so far?
My brow furrowed, and I put a hand to the food he offered. Yesterday, while Kankuro was still unconscious in the closet, I tried eating something similar and almost choked because my throat was so ragged and raw that it couldn't handle the dry texture.
He frowned, "You have to eat, Matsuri. You and Kankuro need the strength to heal up."
My eyes finally darted over to notice that my feet were tossed into Gaara's brother's lap as he slept with his head leaning against the window. Swallowing hard and wincing at the ache the act caused, I pointed at my throat before making an "x" shape with my fingers, hoping he'll understand.
"Your throat?" I nodded, pointing at the granola bar in his hand and shaking my head.
His frown just deepened, "You can't eat it?" I nodded, glad he was able to deduce my miming.
The Inuzuka grabbed his water bottle from the cup holder up front and handed it to me, "We're about to pass through Yugakure, so we'll stop at a drug store and see if we can find a brace for your wrist and some soup, okay?" I nodded, taking a sip before handing it back to him. He gave me another empathetic smile before turning back to face the front.
Carefully, I turned myself around to rest my head in Kankuro's lap, not particularly caring anymore. The tall man produced substantial body heat, and my body felt incredibly cold and shivery. He stirred at my movement, to my dismay, but I was too exhausted and fell asleep again before I could witness his reaction.
Later on, I was woken up by someone softly shaking my shoulder once more, and I tried to bury my face further into the blanket, only for Gaara's voice to snap me out of my sleepy haze, "Matsuri."
My eyes shot open at the stern, familiar tone. There was a fresh new brace on my hurt wrist, and I was leaning against him rather than his brother. He wordlessly helped me sit up and handed me an opened can of chicken noodle soup.
Feeling cloudy and confused, I took it and carefully sipped the broth. The torn and bloody feeling in my throat hurt like hell, but I could swallow without choking, so I forced myself to withstand it. Tears rose in my eyes, but I had to push the food back, or else my stomach's hunger pains would only worsen.
"Here, take this every couple of hours. It should help with the swelling." My eyes opened, and Kiba placed a large bottle of liquid medication with a long name I couldn't pronounce into my lap. I glanced at him as he sat with his knees up to his chest in the front seat, and his body turned toward us.
He gave me a reassuring grin, "You're gonna feel a bit loopy while it's in your system, but we've got your back until you get better, so don't worry!"
The van was parked as we all ate and took a few minutes to rest, and once I finished my soup, I screwed off the cap of the white medicine bottle. When I sniffed it anxiously, I had to lean over to the side to stifle a gag behind a fist.
Kiba snickered, "It won't taste good, but you should still take it."
With a disgusted expression, I tried to hold my breath as I tilted my head back and swallowed a large mouthful of the awful liquid. It's terrible. Not only is the flavor sour, but the aftertaste is even worse.
Unable to vocalize my unhappiness, I turned my body towards Gaara and leaned forward to bury my face in his lap after closing the medicine bottle and tossing it into the floorboard. He lightly patted my head but didn't say anything else.
"We'll be there in about four hours, so if you want to get out and stretch your legs or anything, now's the time," Kankuro said through a mouthful of whatever he was eating from where he sat in the driver's seat.
Frowning, I reached past Gaara and opened the door before maneuvering around him so I could go inside the store we were still parked outside of and use the restroom.
It's one of those big-name drug stores. The shelves are more than half-empty throughout the entire place, likely due to people like us who've come and ransacked it. Honestly, I'm surprised there's still this much stuff left.
With a shake of my head, I grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste from one of the shelves and brushed my teeth heavily after using the restroom, rinsing with a bottle of water just to get that awful medicine's taste off my tongue.
When I stepped out of the ladies' room, I jumped in surprise when I came face to face with Gaara, a hand coming up to my chest when I realized it was him and not someone attacking me.
"Is it still alright to kiss you without permission?"
My mouth opened slightly in surprise. Before the four of us left to get vehicles, he was acting very standoffish, and the fact that he was asking this question meant it wasn't just my imagination. In my drunken stupor, I really had done something that took him off guard, and he backed off because of that.
I couldn't tell him that the way he had phrased it was technically still asking for permission, but I nodded with a rising blush. Soft lips were atop mine instantly, and I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation.
Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, I kept my hands at my sides, even when he carefully moved closer to deepen the kiss. Even though we were drunk at the time, we seemed to remember what we'd learned about making out, so there wasn't an ounce of awkwardness.
My brow furrowed, and my body jolted in shock when he suddenly slid his tongue past my lips, and my fingers lost their grip on the bottle of water I was holding. It clattered to the ground loudly, but Gaara ignored it.
Heat was still rising to my face and limbs as our tongues danced slowly. After a couple of moments, the young man suddenly pulled away. A slight pink met his cheeks, and the back of his hand came to his mouth. Both of us were breathing a bit heavier than usual.
He took a moment or two before finally saying, "I want to do things like we did last time. Are you afraid? Do you want to?"
I didn't know how to respond because I did want to, and I wasn't afraid, but I couldn't nod or shake my head because one of the questions would be answered incorrectly. Timidly, I raised my hand to grab a handful of his shirt and tug him toward me so I could hug him with my able arm and bury my face in his chest. He immediately held me closer, and I knew he understood what I was trying to say.
"What's taking you guys so long? Quit flirting, and let's go!"
He pulled away, and we saw Kiba smirking knowingly at us from across the store. Face ablaze with humiliation, I fumbled to grab my dropped water bottle and followed them back outside.
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง