H'omg, I'm on fire this morning.

That's two new ones, and a re-working of my Hidan drabble... x.X

Anyways, without more rambling from me, I present to you:

In-

A GaaraxSakura AU fic.

(I wanted to try a different writing style -not to mention a different genre than I usually do-, so...

Here it is! Ehehe...)

They were friends.

He was new in town, and she was not; he was four and a half, and she was about to turn five.

His hair was red, and hers was pink; his eyes were a pale aquamarine, of seafoam and surf, while hers were that of a deep forest, of mint leaves and cucumber peels. His skin was strangely pale, porcelain; hers was fair, but pink and healthy.

He was odd, strange, and distant. No one quite knew why, but respected his wishes.

She was odd, cute, and loveable. No one quite knew why, but ruffled her hair as she passed anyways.

She picked up his fallen teddy, not knowing why he wasn't sure what to do when people from this town came close.

-

They were friends for a very, very brief time. Too brief, for the "life long pals" little girl.

Without knowing why, her friend was taken away, sent somewhere far from her home and his old one, with one less family member to be fearful of him for reasons she did not know.

-

And so, a little more than six years passed. Her grades were high, her circle of friends was tight, with many acquantances and those she knew.

She returned a red ribbon of a gift.

Her circle of new friends shifted as class projects were assigned.

Her old friend came back, and frightened her with his mannerisms.

Competitions of schools.

-

The little girl of "life long pals" began to grow up, as her world slowly fell apart.

-

Another two, maybe three, years passed.

She was strong. She was no little girl.

She had blood on her hands, and she didn't know how to get it off.

She ran. She kept running.

Hopped a bus, with nothing but what she had on her, no idea where she was going until she got there.

So, when she found herself at the doorstep of her old friend, she was afraid.

The blood on her hands would not come off, even as she fell into his arms and cried. He both did and did not remember her; the years did not change her taste in colors, but they had changed her nonetheless.

He sent her back, with a bottle of "special" soap to help with the blood on her hands.

It didn't even have a brand name, but the white scarf of a wrapping was all she needed to give it one.

-

Ten years, and he came to her, what was left of his family gone and no one else to talk to, and asked if the people in her circle of friends -particularly the blonde one, who had promised so long ago to teach him how to sing the ramen song...even if he had laughed -well...creepy-chuckled- at the suggestion when it was made- were still around.

She smiled, and said "Just the one".

And somehow, he knew it meant "Come in".