Chapter Text
Everything was too loud. Different sounds grated, scraped, and screeched all around, overlapping into a horrendous symphony that rang and echoed its way directly into Gaara's skull. It felt like the air itself was vibrating, right along with the floor from the rest of the college students stampeding about, hauling their suitcases, bags, and boxes, trying to find their dorm room.
But there was a difference between them and him.
They were normal, and took each blow to the brain of slammed doors, pitched laughter, jangling keys, buzzing AC, and stomping feet in stride. They glanced around, reading each room number, and either carried on their merry way or entered the correctly appointed room. It sounded simple. But Gaara stood frozenly still, ducked into a corner with his hands already clamped around his ears, squinting at the floor in response to the offending lights his brain perceived as too bright.
He had no headphones or sunglasses to help him with his abnormality, seeing as Temari, his older sister, had informed him that that would be an abnormality in itself, although phrased nowhere near as blunt. But Gaara has learnt to see through all the careful wording. She was kind, not wanting him to be seen as the freak he was. Not wanting him to become a victim to a bully or something, that would notice how different he was. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to feel very grateful, and abandoned the thoughts of her attempts at teaching him more typical body language, posture, and expression, keeping his ears covered and letting his eyes scrunch closed.
If she were to see him here like this, her expression would melt into what Gaara would have to take a second to figure out was concern and guilt. She would dig through her purse and hand him her stylish, expensive sunglasses, dig some more to find her earbuds that wouldn’t work to fix anything nearly as well as his noise-cancelling headphones, and quietly help him find his dorm room. A scenario that would not happen, considering she was a few years older than him and therefore already graduated from college with her associates degree and was now working at her full-time job. Kankuro, his other sibling, was two years older, so he had recently graduated college to get a job as well.
And so, Gaara was alone. The urge to sink to his knees and curl up was strong, but he’s long since learned to push that urge away, the urge that he couldn’t yet ignore as a child, that left people staring and whispering, giving whatever parent that was with him for the day sympathetic glances as they tried to coax him back up. His father understood and let him wear his headphones, so any meltdowns with him were rarer with the aid of silence keeping him calm, but he was more often with his mother, who got offended by his headphone use and it was therefore rarely allowed. This, of course, meant more breakdowns with her, which usually ended in her yanking him back up and hissing something in his ear when the gazing strangers looked away. If they looked back, she would smile, embarrassed, and say something about how hard it was to deal with an autistic child. With him.
But if his siblings were there as well and saw him first, Temari would stand strong with her arms crossed, her naturally intense eyes similar to his own making anyone with wandering eyes quickly look away again, but Gaara could always tell she was frowning with concern, trying to figure out what she could do to help. Kankuro would crouch down in front of him and encourage him with much less hissing than their mother, who would be tapping her foot impatiently with narrowed eyes, hand twitching like she itched to just deal with it the faster way and drag him back up. But then Kankuro would shoot the sharpest glance he could get away with at her, and pointedly not tug him upright, just helping him stand back up with a steady and supportive offered hand for him to grasp whenever he was ready. Temari’s hand would reach out too, to hand him her sunglasses and only very slightly helpful earbuds, but it was routine to accept them when he did not have his preferred noise-cancelling ones.
However, in the current time of here and now, he was no longer a pathetic child having a meltdown in public with his siblings possibly there to back him up, he was now a pathetic adult having a meltdown at his college dorms with nobody here to back him up. Still, he’s at least learned some things since then, so he takes a deep breath and puts those things to good use. By taking another deep breath. And another. A few more… and then one more. Until his six senses stop rapidly assaulting him and instead give him his feedback at a more acceptable and less overwhelming rate.
He slowly opens his eyes back up when that happens, finding that there are luckily less students around now, and therefore less noise. He carefully removes his hands that were squeezing his ears and waits for his body to adjust to his senses being returned to default.
When he feels as normal as he possibly could be, he pokes his head around the corner he was hiding behind. To his relief, the only other student currently in this hallway vanishes behind their own corner. He walks a few steps and glances at the door on his left to check how close he might be to his arranged dorm room. He stares for a moment, and then clenches his jaw.
Alright, so he had a mini meltdown about the noise and could’ve escaped to his new room that was approximately a few feet away from him the whole time, just hidden around the corner like he was. As another student enters the hallway, bringing some noise along with them, he supposes that it’s better late than never, quickly getting out the key and stepping inside with his bags once the door is unlocked. He lets out a tiny breath of relief, closer to just a huff, closing his eyes against the now changed lighting, although still artificial- artificial? Why would there be a light already on-? Damn it, he snaps his eyes back open, he came here earlier in the day just to avoid this-
“I’m Naruto Uzumaki, BELIEVE IT!”
Gaara's eyes twitch into a subtle widening, leaning away from the enthusiastically grinning face that based on context clues must be his roommate. He blinks, and then squints against the bright orange of Naruto Uzumaki's T-shirt. He squints so hard the offending color blurs into the tan skin of his arms and neck, neck of course healthily attached to his head, where there is the blur of his blonde hair, and then the two tiny dots of his blue eyes.
Right now would be the socially acceptable time for him to introduce himself in turn, but he is already tired from today, and dreading what having a roommate will mean for him, so his throat does not cooperate. He breathes in through his nose, prepared to exhale the simple words, ‘I am Gaara’, but his throat closes up and they get caught inside. He swallows uncomfortably, hoping it will help, but it just seems to drown the words down his throat until they land anxiously in his stomach instead, heavy and unable to come back up. By now, the socially acceptable timeframe for him to respond has certainly passed, so he simply gives up, the words dying out completely.
His mother would be mortified, snapping at him to ask what all that speech therapy was for that she worked so hard to get him. She would apologize for him and explain how he wasn’t normal, maybe add in a bit how she tried so hard as a mother, but failed.
Usually, if he was too exhausted to talk or just wasn’t in the mood, he could at least manage some mumbles or noises of acknowledgement. He’s not sure when the last time his throat completely gave out on him was, but he remembers he didn’t utter a single word for two months. His mother was pissed, screaming at him to just talk to her, to at least let her hear a single word, but Gaara stayed utterly silent and reclusive. Eventually, she gave up, and the house was the quietest it had ever been. Sometimes, he wishes that he had never started talking again, so he could still have that peaceful silence, blissfully quiet like it is right now.
Naruto’s confident and excited grin fades as he tilts his head at Gaara in a curious manner, probably wondering why he’s been quiet for so long. Gaara points to the bed on the side of the dorm that seems to have been deemed his, seeing as it is the side not covered in Naruto’s belongings, hoping to convey that he is tired. Naruto’s face immediately brightens again.
“Yeah! That’ll be your side. That’s okay, right? I mean, I got here first, so, it’s definitely fair that I got to pick which side first!” He exclaims with a mischievous and proud glint in his eye. “Not that there’s much of a difference… it’s a pretty symmetrical room…and boring either way…” He trails off into a low grumble. “But once I decorate it, it’s going to be the most awesome dorm in the building, BELIEVE IT!” He grins wildly.
Gaara nods, seeing as the only noticeable difference was that the window was closer to Naruto’s chosen side of the room, and that worked in his favor seeing as the sun was rather eyeball-scorching to him. He would like to immediately go to his dark corner with the bed to nap, but he knows it would end up ruining his already random sleep schedule even more, and he should be responsible and start getting his things situated first.
So he walks to his side of the room and begins to unpack like the mature person he is, with Naruto bounding behind him, still clearly full of energy and curiosity. Gaara is currently the opposite, so once he mostly finishes unpacking with Naruto rattling questions behind him as the sun starts to set, he flops down on the bed and closes his eyes, hoping Naruto will take the hint and understand that he’s just tired right now and but would be willing to answer his questions another time. It was a bit of a stretch to think that anybody would just get him like that, but Naruto smiles down at him, a bit softer than before.
“Oh! You’re probably tired, huh? I get it.” He whispers extremely loudly. “We’ll talk whenever you’re ready. But don’t keep me waiting too long!” He goes back to grinning and leaves from his position hovering over Gaara to go flop on his own bed. “Goodnight!” He exclaims loudly, already forgetting to keep to a volume of whispers.
Gaara manages a small huff of acknowledgment, which anyone else would’ve thought was a scoff and frowned, calling him rude, but just before he closes his eyes, he sees Naruto's victorious grin at getting that tiny response, and gets the feeling that despite their seemingly opposing personalities, they just might be able to communicate effectively, and Naruto just might be able to understand him, even without words.