I hope you enjoy this new installment of this story, it's great to get back to writing it.

Defenestration: the action of throwing someone or something out of a window.

You'll understand the need for this in a bit, so I just thought I'd let you all know what this meant if you weren't entirely sure. This is my all time favorite word, just saying... I was so excited. There's a word for it!

Disclaimer: I owneth it not! Darneth.

Chapter 3: The Act of Defenestration

"Please sit in that chair over there and we'll be able to begin."

"Um, Mr. Uzumaki, sir. This won't be necessary," The young blonde woman to Gaara's left interjected calmly.

"Yes, yes it is. If he's staying in my house, he'll go by my rules. Even my son has a clip, all of the children here do. It's how we catalog them." He paused and then smiled at his guests. "And please, call me Minato." Temari sighed and pushed her brother towards the chair, smiling weakly. "It shouldn't take long."

The camera beeped and the lanky blonde man spun it to face Gaara who had, as instructed, taken the offered seat. His gravely tone surprised the three occupants of the room when he finally spoke, "What exactly am I supposed to say?" Kankuro and Temari looked at each other nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of their younger sibling.

Gaara turned his brilliantly green eyes on Minato, who was fiddling with the camera absentmindedly. The perky blonde grinned brightly at him before stepping behind it once more and aiming it at the young redhead. "Just answer my questions." Gaara rolled his eyes and crossed his legs in front of him comfortably. He waved his hand at the caretaker and Minato started recording.

"What's your name?" The redhead's look spoke a thousand words to convey the message of 'The hell is your problem?' Minato audibly sighed and motioned with his hands patiently for the teenager to give some sort of intelligible response.

"Gaara," He started, and after a moment he grunted out, "Sabaku Gaara." He glared into the camera, ignoring the bright light behind it.

"How old are you?" The redhead raised a blonde eyebrow as if to ask, "Does it matter?" Minato's patience was clearly being tested.

"16, but I turn 17 in a week exactly." He forced his accent to be even more pronounced.

"Why were you brought under my care?"

"Because my psychologist thought it'd be a useful experience and my elder siblings believed his crockery," Gaara said with a devilish smirk. He continued, "Also my mother is deceased and my father passed three days ago."

"Can you say a few words about yourself for any future families wishing to adopt?" Gaara rolled his eyes and groaned, pinching the skin between his eyes. This was such a hassle, he wasn't even looking to be adopted.

He looked squarely at the camera, his expression thoughtful for a moment before he rushed out quickly, "I hate people, I don't get along well with pets or children, my father was a bastard so I don't respect parental figures, the concept of authority makes me laugh." He paused. "Get a puppy instead. At least it will learn to love you." He paused again. "Don't bother... And thank you for wasting your time."

The light shut off and the whirring of the camera ceased, so Gaara got to his feet. The curtain behind him rustled quietly as a breeze blew in from the open window; the entry way of the home was quite beautiful actually. He collected his bag and left the room to go explore the house while the adults talked.

Minato, mouth agape and his blue eyes widened to the point of snapping, turned to the elder Sabaku siblings. "Is he always that endearing?"

Temari waved a hand in the air frantically. "Of course not! He was only playing, he's actually a really sweet lad." Kankuro coughed suspiciously and she elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to knock him over.

Minato fiddled with the camera for another moment before folding up the tripod stand and leaning it back into the corner of the foyer, mumbling, "Right, playing."

"We warned you not to try this," The struggling brunette said from the floor. "It's pointless to have him do something he doesn't want to do." Temari felt pity on the younger man and offered him her hand, which he gladly took, and helped him to his feet.

The frazzled blonde rubbed at his temples for a few seconds before sighing and smiling gently at the two foreigners. "It's alright, I've dealt with plenty of children much worse than your brother before. I'm sure he's just a little upset about the death of his father."

Temari and Kankuro shared a look and decided to just let the man hang on to the thought rather than correct him. After all, they were refusing Gaara's request to be at the funeral to give the eulogy. Somehow, they just knew they shouldn't let him tell everyone exactly what kind of father he'd been. There was really no sense in ruining a dead man's reputation.

The two young adults followed the weary childcare facilitator into his office just off to the side of the entryway. The home itself was rather large and spacious, considering it was accommodating for several children. Almost nothing within the parts of the home they'd been able to see so far were breakable, for obvious reasons. The color scheme looked as if it'd been selected by the children themselves, the walls being a mismatched catastrophe of kaleidoscope-like colors. The floor itself was a simple hardwood inlay, although various rugs dotted the rooms at random intervals. The cluttered chaos left a beautiful impression.

Minato's office appeared to be some sort of sanctuary within the sanctuary. The walls were a simple cream color, the floor covered by a light blue carpet that was plush under the Sabaku sibling's bare feet. A desk piled with an assortment of paperwork was tucked into the corner, an ancient looking computer nestled into a small gap among the clutter. An open window allowed a gentle breeze to drift lazily through the room, keeping the atmosphere pleasantly light.

"Please, take a seat." Minato rolled his desk chair over to face the small sofa that was in front of the window and settled down comfortably into it.

Temari crossed her legs beneath her and smiled gently at the tired-looking man. Minato couldn't have been a day over forty-five, but his job must've taken a lot out of him. "How many children do you take care of here?" She fingered the hem of her skirt absentmindedly. Kankuro plopped down ungracefully beside her and leaned his arm on the arm rest, cupping his chin.

"At the moment I have 15, but with your brother it'll be an even 16," The older gentleman said with a smile. "I'm just grateful my wife is around to help me out or I'd never be able to handle them all."

"Well, like I said before, Gaara won't be much trouble. He practically takes care of himself most of the time," Temari said thoughtfully.

"He's a little bit of a quack at times, but you don't need to worry too much about 'im. You'll likely never even notice he's around." Kankuro fell silent at the dirty look from his sister.

A little life came into Minato's ocean blue eyes, and he looked nearly ten years younger. "I'm not too worried about him causing trouble, I'm thinking that my son is going to cause enough of that for the both of them when he finds out someone his age is moving in. He'll be relieved he's not the only one his age around a bunch of little munchkins."

Temari glanced at her brother nervously and then interjected, "Gaara isn't too social."

"That isn't a problem for Naruto," Minato said with a wave of his hand. "If your brother was a brick wall he'd still try to have a conversation with him." The normally quiet blonde burst into a round of hearty laughter while the thought that perhaps a brick wall would converse better than his brother crossed through Kankuro's mind. Unknowingly to him, the same thing was occupying his sister as well.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Gaara wandered down yet another hallway and found yet another staircase that led both upwards and downwards. He'd long forgotten which floor he was on. The third perhaps. He'd yet to see another soul anywhere around him. That may have to do with the fact that it was six in the morning on a Saturday, or maybe the people here were already avoiding him. It was only a matter of time before they did anyway. He went up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The floorboards creaked under his light footsteps. The townhouse was quite beautiful. The walls were multicolored and often just covered in intricately designed wallpaper. An abstract mural laced across the ceiling and even a few spots on the floor were painted on to look like a three-dimensional crevice in the ground. The artist was quite skilled.

Signs hung on all of the surrounding doors with names of the occupants printed in neat and feminine looking letters. Two names were on each door, occasionally three, and it was at the end of the hall- of whatever floor he was on -that he found the door with his name, the sign still freshly painted and wet in a more masculine script than the others. It was likely done just before he'd gotten there. Each door in the hall had been a different color, and this one was no different. The name printed beside his own was long-faded, obviously there for quite some time, in black letters against the burnt orange of the door.

Naruto.

The door opened silently on greased hinges and the floor within the room was covered by a plush, dark colored carpet. The curtains were pulled shut and obviously thick judging by the lack of light filtering into the room aside from what was sneaking through a small crack between them. The murals continued onto the ceiling of the bedroom, and they were apparently a new addition. Plastic sheeting was on the floor in the far corner of the room, a step ladder unfolded on top of it, and drops of fresh paint of all colors dripping down the wall carelessly. The walls themselves appeared to be a light cream color, or possibly white. It was hard to tell in the darkness.

Gaara set his carry on bag down beside the door and, in just a few calculated strides, made it to one of the widows in the room and threw it open. Light from the rising sun flooded the east-facing room and illuminated it. There was a set of bunk beds against the wall opposite the window made of a plain-looking wood, the bottom bunk made up neatly with white sheets. There was a large chest at the foot of the beds and another one underneath the second window. Apparently this room was at a corner in the house. The pale yellow house from before faced him.

Gaara looked over at the mess in the corner, piled on top of what might possibly be a desk and decided that he'd likely end up cleaning it. A standing lamp was tucked into the corner, a door- possibly a closet -right beside it, and another door just beside him. Both were the same gaudy orange. Something in the top bunk rustled and sighed, and Gaara raised a blonde brow in surprise.

"Naruto," He mumbled under his breath before turning back around to look out the window. It was at that exact moment that a window adjacent to his burst open, pink curtains billowing wildly. The two houses were close together, close enough that if Gaara opened his he could likely jump quite easily across the space between them.

The curtains were pulled to the side and a young woman with hair that was almost the exact color of her curtains was revealed. A white t-shirt poked out from underneath her paint-stained overalls, her arms long and pale and simple black, finger-less gloves on her hands. It was then that she glanced up at him, and Gaara quirked his head to the side at her blatant surprise.

The girl waved awkwardly, a smile- or possibly a grimace -splitting her lips oddly. Gaara just put his hands into his pockets and sat down on the window seat, his back to the girl. The bundle of sheets on the top bunk whined again, a tan arm flopping down over the rail. There was a sudden knocking sound behind the confused redhead and he turned only to fall off the seat and land on the ground in front of him in shock.

Pink hair flying in the breeze and green eyes only inches from the window, she knocked a pale fist against the glass again and pointed at the latch with the index finger on her other hand. Gaara got up, not at all embarrassed at falling in front of someone he'd never met before. He moved to open the window, registering that she was balanced on some sort of makeshift bridge made of sturdy-looking wood that was propped between the ledges under the windows, and stepped aside to let the mysterious girl in.

"Thanks," She mumbled with a heavy drawl as she tumbled ungracefully through the window with a small leap. She bypassed the thoroughly bemused ginger entirely and gathered a heavy-looking book in her arms from some place on the cluttered desk. A few pieces of dirty clothing tumbled to the floor, but she paid them no mind. "Naruto, get your ass outta bed! We got work to do." She threw the book into the bed above her harshly and was rewarded with a pained groan and the arm sliding back under the orange comforter.

Blonde hair poked out from under the sheets, and a nasally voice whined into the pillow. "Saaaaakuraaaaa. It's Saturday!"

"Do I sound like I care?" The pink-haired girl stalked over to the plastic-covered corner and climbed the ladder, paintbrush in hand. Gaara sat back down on the window seat, perfectly content to wait for them to notice his presence.

Naruto sat up and rubbed at his eyes sleepily with large fists. Golden blonde hair poked out at incredibly odd angles on top of his head. His eyes were the same blue Minato's had been, and his voice was a notch higher than the older man, but aside from that, Gaara concluded, the two were near replicas of each other. This must have been the caretaker's son.

The blonde swung his feet over the edge of his bed and fell nimbly to the floor with a heavy thud. The boy must've weighed a ton; his arms were thick and muscled where they poked out from the sleeves of his t-shirt and his shoulders were broadly set. He was likely some kind of athlete. It was then that he turned his sleepy blue eyes on the thoroughly entertained intruder, looking the redhead up and down where he sat perfectly unperturbed in front of the open window.

Naruto pointed a single long finger at him, his face twisting into concern at the stern-looking young man before he promptly flipped his lid. "Who the hell are you?" Sakura nearly fell off the ladder beside him, and he moved over to protect the surprised young woman.

She looked at the stranger who'd let her into the room then down to her friend, her green eyes wide in shock and fright. "You mean you don't know him?" Her voice squeaked. The blonde just shook his head.

Gaara felt the uncharacteristic urge to laugh bubble up in his chest, but he fought it back and merely stood. He felt a little pride at the fact that he had several inches on the blonde. His hair was free from its usual ponytail, the tips brushing against his shoulders, bangs hanging over his striking eyes. He had on a plain white button up shirt and a knee-length burgundy trench coat with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black slacks concealed his long legs, a simple pair of grey boots on his feet. The redhead realized he probably struck a strange figure, but it wasn't his problem that they weren't expecting him.

Gaara smirked devilishly and put his hands into the pockets of his coat. Naruto helped Sakura off of the ladder, ignoring the fact that she got paint all over his hands. He repeated his question, and the youngest Sabaku just took a few steps closer. "Your father didn't alert you of my attendance, I assume." They looked surprised at his response, or possibly his accent, and Naruto shook his head furiously.

The redhead gently tossed his bag onto the bottom bunk and turned his back on the confused teens behind him. "Check the door." There was shuffling behind him, the creak of the door, and then suddenly he was being crushed in the grip of two strong arms around his middle.

"Are you my new roommate?" Came the excited voice behind him, all traces of worry having dispersed. The blonde managed to lift him several inches off the ground, "It's great to meet you Gaara! I'm Naruto Uzumaki."

The redhead struggled in the grip of the hyperactive blonde, suddenly not finding the situation quite so entertaining anymore. He glimpsed the strange-looking girl in the corner of his vision staring at him sympathetically from the doorway, his siblings having appeared behind her with the irritating blonde boy's father. He groaned and fought back the urge to throw his idiotic roommate out of the still open window.

Was throwing someone out of the window illegal in this country too? Yes, he supposed it was.

It was going to be a really long year.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

End Chapter 3.

I enjoyed getting back to writing this. There's been a lot going on for me for quite some time, so it was great to be able to get this out of my system. Slow start, but finally some people are introduced.

Can I see at least 10 reviews before the next chapter comes out? That would be so fantastic!

Read and Review, Love AMB11!