A Trust is Formed

I had met some of the hospital staff before, of course, and was already pleased with what I found. Those that remembered me treated me with awed respect. If I wasn't already used to this type of deference, I would have felt awkward. But people find something amazing in the healing arts. When you bring someone back from the brink of death, it leaves an impression. It is also very hard not to let all that amazed gratitude and wonder go to your head.

But I remember the little girl with the large forehead who always lagged behind her teammates. I remember the simpering little fool that fawned over the most popular boy, just because every other girl did as well. These memories kept me humble.

So, in no time at all, I was able to build relationships with these brothers and sisters in the medical profession. I taught them what I knew, and they in turn shared their techniques. They had a great deal to teach me, actually. I knew a variety of advanced medical jutsus, yes, but their knowledge of quick fixes and tricks would prove immensely useful. They had so many practical ways to treat a wounded shinobi in the field, a better understanding of some of the natural elements that I don't see on a regular basis. Many of their techniques could be used by anyone, shinobi or not. All of our shinobi in Leaf were trained in basic first aid, but even I was unaware of some of the ways a person could manipulate the natural elements around them in order to save a life or limb.

My favorite trick was one that almost any shinobi could do, and yet I had never thought of something so simple and effective. A sand cast. By using a simple water jutsu, and leaving what basically equaled a chakra netting, you could not only stabilized broken bones, but also stop major bleeding. The water helped to mold the sand, and the chakra web held it firmly together. I kept thinking about how it would make a fantastic neck brace while transporting an injured comrade, and wondering if it was as effective with plain dirt.

I also got a better look at their greenhouses. They had so many! Admittedly, they didn't have a good natural climate for growing like we did in Konoha, so it was only rational that they have more. But I still thought it a wise investment to start a few more greenhouses ourselves.

Their desert flora was what I was particularly interested in, and I started a notebook specifically dedicated to their properties and uses.

Most of my days were spent like this - going on rounds through the hospital in the morning, early afternoons in the labs, and the rest of the afternoon and early evening in the greenhouses. I enjoyed ending my days this way. There was something so soothing about walking in the quiet, with the plants just before I went home.

Home. After only a few days, going back to the "Kazekage's residence," or the "Sand Siblings' house," turned into "going home." And it felt that way too. I walked in the door to the smells of dinner wafting in from the kitchen, and the clattering of utensils and pans. To my great surprise, Gaara began to beat me home. I knew this wasn't usual, because Kankuro informed me thusly.

The first time it happened, we figured it was a fluke. I walked in the front door and happily bounced into the kitchen to see what was cooking, and was shocked to find Gaara sitting at the table and quietly talking to Kankuro about the day. I listened on, and went about pouring drinks and setting the table.

But when I came in the next day, I found Gaara there again, Kankuro looking pleased, and the table already set. When I looked around for something to do, Gaara glanced at me, before returning his focus back to his conversation with Kankuro and sliding out the seat next to him. I took the silent offer to join them, and was soon drawn into conversation as well.

It began to feel...natural.

Kankuro cornered me at the hospital only five days after I had arrived, after four evenings of this unnatural behavior from Gaara. "Did you say something to him?"

I shook my head, bewildered. "No, of course not! Didn't you say he was usually home for dinner?"

He shrugged and scratched the back of his wild brown hair in a way that reminded me of Naruto. "Well, yeah, but he was always late, ate pretty much in silence, and then slipped up to his office right away with stacks of paperwork. He really only came home for dinner because Temari nagged him if he didn't."

I smiled. "And maybe now he's doing it because he enjoys it. Maybe he likes the feeling of being a part of the family."

Kankuro's brown eyes took on a calculating look. "Or maybe he likes the company we have?"

I snorted.

"I'm being serious! Maybe he's making an effort to... I don't know, get to know you more."

I raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe he's just being polite because you have company?"

Kankuro shook his head. "I don't think so. I had a talk with him the night you got here. About how people don't know how to act around him, and that's why he doesn't have a lot of... you know, friends."

He looked uncomfortable saying it, but I knew it was the truth. Gaara just didn't invite friendship like others did.

He shook his head, as though ridding himself of his discomfort. "Anyhow, you don't act that way. You treat him just like you treat anyone else. Maybe he's been around more because - well, because you make him comfortable. You give him a chance to be himself."

I thought a lot about that later. About what type of person Gaara really was, behind the formality, and the quietness, and even sometimes the shyness. I really hoped I would like him. Naruto saw something in Gaara. I wanted to see it too.

Gaara appeared in the hospital toward the end of my first week there. I figured it was just to check and make sure his staff was behaving appropriately toward an ambassador of an allied nation. He found me in the greenhouses, going over some of the natural chemicals found in some of the cacti. The hallucinogenic properties were great for retrieving information from someone without having to torture or kill them. Suna's lead poison expert, Daichi, was with me, carefully explaining the care for the plant, as well as extraction techniques.

When Gaara entered we both bowed, and he asked us both how we were progressing. He wasn't wearing his official robes. Actually, he looked like he had just finished sparring. I had forgotten what he looked like in his shinobi gear. His long, burgundy coat flapped around his calves when he walked, showing black pants beneath with various leather strapping holding weapon pouches to his person. His large leather strap that normally held his gourd in place was there along with two belts draped low over his slim hips. His gourd of sand, however, was absent.

It suited him. It accented his lean muscular build, tight around chest and arms but loose around his legs, allowing for optimum movement. The high collar hid his pale throat from view, and I knew from experience out in the windy desert that it kept sand and debris from getting down into your clothes. This outfit suited him so much more than the formal robes of his office.

And it didn't hurt that he looked pretty hot in it as well. While is official robes concealed, this outfit gave a small taste of the hidden power in his build, without giving it all away. It was... teasing.

While I did my silent perusal of his person, Daichi informed him that I had been able to give several practical courses on poison extraction. I had a lecture on the development of antidotes scheduled for next week. His gaze fell on me, then, and he asked, "Are my shinobi treating you with respect? Are they being forthcoming with the knowledge you seek?"

I hesitated and felt Daichi's eyes on me. That question was way too calculated to be a casual inquiry.

"Everyone has been wonderful, Kazekage. You have excellent facilities here, and a wonderful staff. We are learning a lot from each other."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Hmmm."

Well, crap. I knew that look. Tsunade used it when she smelled a rat.

I smiled guiltily and he nodded before walking briskly away.

I glanced at Daichi. "I'm going to hear about it later, I'm sure."

He smiled back sympathetically. "You should have just told him."

"I fight my own battles."

"But he is the Kazekage. He should at least be aware when they are fought in his own village."

I sighed and nodded, my pink ponytail bobbing behind me. Can't argue with that kind of logic.

The truth was, most of the staff was wonderful. But definitely not all. And this wouldn't have bothered me, except for the fact that the small faction of medical shinobi that were not so pleased with my presence were not quiet or subtle about it. I figured that if they kept it up or got any showier about their opinions, Gaara was bound to hear about it before I ever came and told him. But I supposed he had already heard. Rats.

Daichi was aware of the problem, and was doing his best to head it off. There was a portion of the staff that felt more protective of Suna secrets than others. I could empathize. I knew what boundaries not to cross. Every shinobi has special trademark moves that they worked hard to develop and don't want shared.

But it is different in the medical profession. We train up our allies to save lives, not destroy them.

We met our real problem with poisons and antidotes. Some of Suna's people didn't feel they should share their more developed and secret poisons with another village, even if that village was an ally.

Gaara obviously felt differently. He and Naruto were adamant that their villages should strengthen ties as much as possible, and this meant sharing some secrets. If a fellow shinobi from either village died when withheld information could have saved them, there could be no greater betrayal or tragedy in the eyes of either Kazekage or Hokage.

And I agreed. Which is why I came.

Daichi had been forthcoming enough. He told me from the start that some of those working under him or alongside him disagreed with the amount of information being shared. Kaori, who was in charge of Green House 5, which housed the most potent flora, and Manabu, who worked in one the labs, were the two most hostile.

I could handle bad attitudes, though. The snide remarks, the passive aggressive behavior - they were easy to look over. I wasn't the hothead I had once been, quick to boil over and slug someone in the face. Now I just cracked my knuckles, pasted on a Sai-like smile and moved on.

And thus far, the level of animosity had remained at a minimum. I told Gaara as much when he cornered me about it that night.

I had just walked into the kitchen that evening and immediately stopped, wary. Kankuro was gone, there was no food cooking. And Gaara was sitting at the table, waiting for me, his eyes hard.

"We're on our own for dinner tonight. Kankuro is out on patrol." His voice was more quiet than usual.

He had his arms crossed as he leaned almost casually in his chair, his lean legs extended in front of him. He was dressed comfortably, in loose gray pants and a black shirt. Everything about him said relaxed, but by looking at his face I knew better.

I nodded slowly and jumped when he extended his foot and slid the wooden chair across from him out from the table with a loud scrape. I'm no idiot. I took the cue and sat.

"Listen, Gaara, I would have told you if..."

"You lied to me."

My eyes widened. He didn't sound angry. He sounded... hurt. I swallowed the rest of my words.

"I don't like being lied to."

I studied his face for a moment. His eyes still had that hard edge to them, and his brows and lips were lowered into a frown. But I could detect - was that uncertainty? He almost looked unsure of himself. Like he didn't want to be having this conversation. The longer I looked at him, the more uncertain he looked until he finally looked down and to the side, away from me and away from our conversation.

Gaara never looks away. Wow. I did hurt him.

"I'm sorry."

His shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his frown didn't. He raised wary eyes to mine. It was disconcerting, seeing him like this. I had never seen him hurt before.

I didn't look away, and tried to infuse as much honesty into my voice as possible. "You're right. I shouldn't have lied. I guess I just didn't want you to worry about it. I didn't want you to step in. I wanted to handle it myself."

"All you had to do was be honest. I trust you. I trust you to tell me the truth, and I trust you to handle difficult situations in a responsible manner."

That had me surprised and I leaned back, my hands spread on the table and brows raised. "Wow."

He cocked his head, looking more confused than angry now. "What?"

I smiled. "Well, it's just that usually when I have a problem, someone is always trying to jump in and solve it for me. If I had been having this talk with Naruto rather than you, he'd be jumping out of his chair to go fix the situation before I even got done explaining what the situation was."

His lips turned up on one side at that. "That does sound like Naruto."

I laughed and nodded. "Alright, Kazekage." I grinned when he cringed. He hated for people to use his title in his own home. "I think this can work."

"What can work?"

"This." I gestured between the two of us. "We have an understanding now. It was wrong of me to assume you were like anyone else. And I apologize for that. From now on, I give you honesty. I do trust you. And I'll trust you to trust me. That's what a friendship is, right?"

His eyes widened, and I smiled inwardly. Kankuro was right. He was looking for a friend. Why not make it easy for him?

"So I will be honest with you, you'll be honest with me?"

He nodded slowly. "There will always be secrets. That is the world we live in. And I think everyone needs secrets. But not dishonesty."

"I agree."

"I heard a rumor about difficulties with the staff."

I nodded. "They are minor thus far. Just verbal barbs, petty stuff like that. Making me draw information out of them. They never outright refuse to tell me anything, they just force me to ask all the right questions."

"I see."

I shrugged and continued. "I can kind of understand where they are coming from."

"I do not. They are under orders to help you in any way possible. Their lack of faith in you, shows a lack of faith in me."

"They trust you. Perhaps they just don't agree with you in this particular matter."

Gaara sighed. "If it goes beyond verbal insults, I want to be informed. I will step in if my shinobi get out of line. They are my responsibility."

I nodded again. "I understand."

He moved to get up and as he exited the kitchen, I called out to him. "Wait, where are you going?"

He looked between me and the stairwell, his clear teal-green eyes scrunched slightly in confusion. "To my rooms?"

I smiled. "What about dinner? Our chef is out, and I really don't feel up to cooking. And we've established that you are not skilled in the culinary arts." I smiled cheekily. "Care to go out for some food?"

He eyed me carefully for a moment before nodding. "I... would like that. You don't mind?"

I frowned in confusion as I rose from my chair. "Don't mind what?"

He gazed at me steadily, and I could almost swear his cheeks started to flush. "You don't mind eating alone with me?"

Wow, was he ever adorable. Beneath all of that tough exterior was a very insecure person. It was almost heartbreaking.

"Of course I don't." I smiled and surprised him further. "Actually, I'm looking forward to it."

I entertained myself with memories of that dinner the following day. I was happily measuring out herbs and humming to myself when Akemi nudged with her hip as she worked next to me. Akemi was one of the medics here in Suna that I liked immediately, with no effort at all. Everything about her was amiable.

"Someone's in a good mood."

I smiled. "What makes you think this isn't my normal mood?"

She scoffed. "Oh come on. There are good moods, and then there are good moods." She added some extra emphasis on that last good that made me laugh.

"So? Spill? That kind of mood only comes around when you've met someone."

I shook my head, a few tendrils falling out of the ponytail I had tied my hair into while I worked. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm just happy."

She cast me a disbelieving eye before returning her gaze to her work. "Uh huh."

I knew the interrogation wasn't over, so it was no surprise when, at lunch time, she grabbed me and hauled me over to a table for two at the side of the hospital cafeteria.

She plopped herself across from me, popped the lid off of her salad, and eyed me while she slathered the greens in dressing.

"Spill."

"What's the point in eating a salad, when you're just going to douse it in oil and fat?"

She snorted and waved her fork at me. "Quit stalling. I want to hear about this guy you met. Do I know him?"

I picked up half of my turkey club and took a bite before answering. "Yes, you know him, and it isn't what you think."

"Oh? And what is it?"

I looked out the large window at our table and smiled. "We're just becoming friends. And it's nice. Having a new friend, I mean."

I smiled to myself, thinking of how surprised I had been at the success of our evening alone. Once upon a time, I would have thought a meal alone with Gaara would be quick, silent, and awkward. But it wasn't any of those things. We actually found a lot to talk about. Admittedly, I talked more than he did, but he listened attentively, asked insightful questions, and when I questioned him, he was always forthcoming.

It was refreshing. And nice.

There was no effort needed. We actually ended up staying long after we had both eaten and talked the entire walk home as well. And when he gestured for me to ascend the stairs before him to our shared floor I regretted that our evening was over.

At the top of the stairs, he bowed his head slightly and thanked me for joining him for dinner. And when I told him it was my absolute pleasure and insisted we do it again sometime, his cheeks definitely took on a pink hue.

I was probably smiling stupidly to myself when Akemi kicked me under the table. "You're daydreaming! You don't daydream about friends!"

I blushed. "I was just remembering a conversation we had. It was nice. It's nice to have people you can talk to."

"About what?"

I shrugged and smiled. "Everything. We can talk about everything."

Akemi grinned knowingly. "That's how it starts, you know." She took another bite of her sopping salad. "The best relationships, the ones that last... that's how they start."

I smiled and finished my sandwich, thoughts swirling in my head about dark red hair, and clear eyes that see everything.