Chapter One: Say Something (I'm Giving Up on You)

It's been six years, exactly to the date.

Not that long really, she thinks, just a little more than a fifth of her twenty-three years on earth. She doesn't know if she said that just to put things into perspective or to convince herself.

She leans her forehead on the cool surface of the window of the bus, packed like a sardine next to a man she barely knows. Based on the stink of beer (that heady, intoxicating-without-meaning-too smell that she associates with warm, quiet nights) and the unkempt and rumpled clothes, he wouldn't be someone she'd want to know anyway. Especially since he's been eyeing her up and down ever since he got on.

Oh the awesome tapestry of life.

She'd have gotten off a while ago if it wasn't raining. And damn it that she was too lazy to take an umbrella with her this morning.

And that she's dead on her feet to boot. Her shifts in the hospital had increased, now that she's so close to graduating. Just a little bit more… And all these five years would have been worth it. Tsunade-shishou doesn't say it, but Sakura knows. She's proud of her for finishing med school early, head and shoulders above the rest of her class.

Unbidden, she wonders if her friends back home would have been proud of her too.

But that's a debate she's too nostalgic at the moment to objectively participate in.

Her gaze doesn't go beyond the window, instead she focuses on her reflection in the mirror. Long pink hair tied in a bun, once neat and perfect, now with strands straying along her nape. All-too-tired green eyes with dark circles adorning them that concealer can't completely erase.

It's not that bad is it?

With a bit of color on her lips and a bit of eye shadow, at least she doesn't look like a total zombie.

Sakura lets a smirk grace her pretty mouth, her sailor mouth that can demolish a man just as well as build him up… a smirk reminiscent of someone's, someone she knew a long time ago.

Hey, at least Mr. Drunk-as-a-skunk to her left still finds her attractive.

God, it's been too long.

Her sense of humor was declining.

The apartment is a rental.

It's the first one she got since she moved to Suna six years ago. It's small, but she likes to think that it's cozy.

The yellowing floral wallpaper? Vintage.

The way the kitchen butted into the living room? Space and time-saving.

It doesn't really matter what anyone else may think, that she can do better— and in fact, she can afford better. But this was home. These walls had seen much crying and breaking down, self-congratulatory celebrations, crazy late-night study sessions, and then some more crying. It may be silly to think (in fact she's not sure whether it's just the loneliness or if she should find a psychiatrist) but it feels like this apartment has nurtured her in its arms.

But now Gaara is suggesting that she move in with him.

What would that be like?

She drops her purse on the second-hand (so soft) couch and heads straight to the fridge. With extreme care, she lifts a small slice of New York Cheesecake with a little pink candle on top.

Because it's not just the six year anniversary of her new life in Suna, in an advance med school that's slowly eating away at her health and sanity.

It's also her twenty-third birthday.

She lights the pretty little candle and it's the only light, the only warmth in her apartment.

"Make a wish Sakura…"

I want to graduate with top honors, she thinks; then at least she has something to show for all these years. Or maybe a pay raise so she can finally get that pink Cadillac she's been eyeing. Yes, it's pink; she's not ashamed of that. Hell she could even wish for world peace.

But she knows what she'll wish for in the end. The same thing every year.

"I wish…" she whispers close to the little candle, like it was a friend she's telling a secret to, "I wish that this is the year he finally picks up what's left of his heart."

Sakura met Gaara in the hospital, in her fifth year in Suna.

He had collapsed from sleep deprivation, a common illness of most architects or, in Gaara's case, architects-to-be. Late nights alone with just a drafting table and the deadliest deadline would make a frazzled, over-caffeinated mess out of anyone.

Sakura, not a stranger to the effects of sleep deprivation herself, proceeded to give the red-head the scolding of a lifetime. What if no one had found him? If he had fainted out in the highway while driving?

All the while, he stared at her with those wide, blue-green eyes, eyes that could rival hers in clarity. No one had ever dared raise their voice at him, not the youngest child of the Sabaku family.

Especially since most everyone was afraid of him and his eyes that could see through anyone.

Later, Sakura would learn that he was an insomniac, not much he could do about sleeping properly really. Not unless someone knocks him out cold.

Even when she learned who he was, she had no remorse in her treatment of him. Hey, she was going to be the doctor here, and people came to her for advice and they better well damn take it.

Gaara started walking her home a week after he was discharged; cause you know, doctors (even doctors-to-be) couldn't see their patients like that.

And it took him another week to ask her on a friendly date.

And they took it slow, because Gaara was a gentleman, and because she wanted to make sure. That when she— they took their relationship to the next level, when they could finally, actually call it a relationship, it wouldn't be just so she could prove something.

To herself. To the people back home. To him.

So far though, time has not finished its job of mending wounds and she's still waiting.

Just waiting.

"I'll be gone for three weeks." Gaara wipes his mouth with a napkin.

Sakura takes another bite of the strawberry cheesecake. "To where?"

They meet up for dinner the day after her birthday. He didn't push for a date on the special day; he knows that it's a personal celebration still. And he had a presentation anyway, he said in a way that Sakura almost believed he wasn't disappointed.

She really doesn't deserve someone like Gaara, who would wait for her patiently. Not when she couldn't wait herself.

But she had to do it right?

Before she lost the will to fight herself?

"Konoha." Sakura almost chokes. "They're renovating the old highschool and our firm got the bid."

The old highschool… Images of diamond wire fences with gaps underneath and giant windows looking out into the soccer field came to mind. Along with rickety old stairs, the fourth step of which could (supposedly) grant your wish and a musty old room that smelled of ink.

"Well then," she smiles, "Take pictures for me would you? It's been a long time."

Sakura's told him that she's from Konoha, of course. It's not like she kept it a secret, seventeen years is a good chunk of her life that she can't hide. But there sure as hell are things that she 'forgot' to mention.

But the things left unsaid built the wall they have yet to pass, mean and seemingly insurmountable. There are chips and gaps here and there, but it was far from going down.

Maybe it was time to take a sledgehammer to it?

"Better yet, why don't you bring me home a keychain so I can put the key to our apartment on it?"

If Sakura could describe how she felt the moment she mentioned moving in, it was like jumping off a cliff. And it felt like she was still falling. She was in over her head, and exhilarated at the same time. Hell she almost can't believe it.

But for his sake, she hoped that the fear didn't show in her face, color draining from her cheeks.

Because all that he was… was happy.

The trip home was easier, quieter. Gaara walked her up to her door (not for long, he says), and she gives him a chaste kiss on the side of his mouth. The rare reddening of his cheeks almost banished the heaviness in her chest. Almost.

Sakura doesn't invite him in; that's a battle for another day.

Tonight, she says bye and that's it.

Tonight, she gets back to her inches-thick med books and attacking them with highlighters.

But she can check her Facebook wall for a while can't she? It was her birthday and all, and even an impersonal greeting over social media was better than nothing.

Greetings from her co-workers flooded her notification, but all she really cared about was Tsunade-shishou's and Shizune-chan's. There were also ones from Temari and Kankurou, of course… and a message from Hinata-chan?

Sakura reads it once. And then twice. She doesn't even hesitate calling Gaara.

"Hey, Gaara-kun, I don't suppose you mind having a travel buddy to Konoha? ... There's a sort-of emergency."

She looks at the message again so she can convince herself that she read it right.

Sakura-chan, happy birthday!

Ano sa… I know this is quite sudden, we haven't seen you in years, or talked to you… But I don't know who else to turn to. You're the only one I could trust with this, I haven't even told Naruto-kun yet.

I hope you would consider coming back to Konoha for a while. I really need your… support in the matter.

I think… I'm pregnant.

Well shit.

A/N:

I don't know what this is. Just something that I typed up on a whim… What am I thinking right? I haven't even finished Nyx Eros (far from it!). Should I continue this though?

Don't be lame, review guys!

I do not own Naruto, or the title song in any way.