Thank you for reviewing, sorry for being slow with my updates :)


Chapter 4.

Sakura had slept badly. When her alarm sounded she was almost relieved to get out of bed. Her dreams had been filled with visions of the Akatsuki, suspicious individuals shrouded in black wielding sniper rifles, burning fires and, for some reason, Gaara. More than once she had awoken, sweating and shaking with her heart pounding in her chest. Her hair was tousled from tossing and turning all night and she already had a hint of dark circles under her eyes. She slipped on a silk robe and padded barefoot to the kitchen, where the first thing she did was switch on her coffee maker, as usual.

While she sipped strong black coffee, she turned on the radio to listen to the morning news. She glanced out the window during the traffic report and saw that last night's fire had been put out. There was a small trail of smoke drifting towards the sky and when she opened the window she noticed a faint burnt smell. The radio broadcaster began an announcement about the fire. It was confirmed arson. The building in question had been a dojo.

Hearing this, Sakura almost dropped her coffee cup. A dojo! Her thoughts immediately went to her own dojo, but no, she was being irrational. Her dojo was not in that part of the city. Still, her mind raced. It could easily have been hers and she suspected the Akatsuki to have been behind it. What if they had made a mistake and had meant to burn her dojo? No, that was silly; multinational crime syndicates did not make mistakes. What if it was a warning to her and if she didn't join they'd burn hers too? She shook these thoughts from her mind and turned off the radio. She was being paranoid again, just like last night on the fire escape.

She washed up her breakfast things before showering quickly and dressing for work. She wore tight shorts under longer Capri pants and a sports bra with a mesh vest over it. She fixed her hair into a high bun, securing it with hairpins. Finally, she picked out a sweater which she draped over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and car keys, locking her apartment and taking the lift down to the parking lot.

At the dojo, she looked at her schedule. She had three kids classes to teach in the morning. Teaching children was enjoyable, Sakura found, mainly because they reminded her of Naruto. They generally listened to her instructions and she had fun making up games for them to keep them interested in their training. Unlike a lot of older martial arts practitioners, they also had a youthful enthusiasm for their sport that translated into fun. Plus, she earned most of her money from teaching children as their parents were happy to pay for one of the best martial artists in the city to teach their little darlings.

For the first time, however, Sakura was glad that she was teaching low skill level techniques because anything more strenuous would have exhausted her. Having had so little sleep the night before and constantly worrying about the Akatsuki, Sakura was not feeling her best.

It was rising noon and her third children's class was almost over. The parents of her pupils were waiting around the door, while Sakura organised a game which involved all fifteen or so screaming, delighted seven year olds attacking her at once, using the techniques she had taught them so far. The parents watched in joy, glad their children were having fun with the famous Sakura 'The Cherry Blossom' Haruno, as she was known on the fighting circuit. Her eyes scanned the crowd and she noticed someone with red hair standing behind one of the mums. He had his back to her, but if it was who she thought it was… Sakura pretended to be defeated by the onslaught of children quicker than she might usually have done and dismissed the class.

As the children filed out with their parents, the red-headed man approached her. As she suspected, it was Gaara. Was he intent on stalking her life? He was dressed entirely in black; a black shirt with the collar undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black slacks. His posture was calm and confident, but his slightly crumpled collar and hastily pushed up sleeves suggested he hadn't just been sitting in an office. She never did ask what he did for a living. His tousled hair, the very slight swelling on his cheek that would probably form a bruise tomorrow and the smudge of blood drying by his left elbow indicated he had been engaged in a rather different morning. There was the slight bulge of a handgun in his pocket (either that or he was pleased to see her, Sakura joked to herself). Judging by the black circles under his eyes he had obviously had an even worse night's sleep than she had - an insomniac, perhaps?

She continued taking him in, analysing him properly as he crossed the room. When she had met him at the bar she had only seen a good-looking face and a nice body. Now she had seen him fight, she took in his smooth movements and his quiet step on the floor. He'd obviously been fighting in his street clothes last night or this morning. Something about him suggested that he was a gangster, but she didn't think he was Akatsuki. Her guess was that he was possibly an undercover cop.

"Sakura," he greeted her. His face was contorted into its usual smirk and his voice was teasing. She stopped analysing him as she'd trained herself to and just looked at him. Despite how much he had irritated her, she immediately remembered what he looked like naked.

"Gaara," she replied, matching his tone.
"This is a nice dojo you have here," he said conversationally. Sakura was becoming a little tired of hearing those words from people who so clearly had not come to say just that.
"Thank you. It is one of the best in the city," she inclined her head.
"The best without question now," he said, a humourless smile spreading across his face, "My own was unfortunately burnt down last night,"
"I saw. I'm sorry to hear that," she replied. So he worked at a dojo, like her. Now she had a face to put to the unnamed victims of the fire. For some reason, she still suspected Akatsuki was behind the blaze.

"I came here today to ask permission to train at your dojo. I have no money to pay the fees, so perhaps I could work here and train in my spare time. I've come to offer my assistance,"
"Your assistance?" Sakura retorted hotly, unsure as to what he thought she needed assisting with, "What makes you think I'd want that?"
Gaara nodded. "Perhaps you misunderstand me, Sakura. You are in more danger than you think."

Sakura swore under her breath. Could he know about the Akatsuki's little visit last night? Was that what that mysterious phone call had been about. Was he Akatsuki? But if he was, why would he want to train here? They probably had their own dojos. Plus, he just didn't seem like an Akatsuki. He was warmer, politer and less threatening; yet still a formidable presence. Although she'd only met Uchiha and Hoshigaki of the Akatsuki, Gaara seemed worlds apart.

"You're not Akatsuki?" she asked. She cursed herself for the touch of fear she could hear in her voice
"I'd be offended to be lumped with that scum, but does it matter?" Gaara said. His smile was sarcastic. She longed to wipe it off his face, she just wasn't sure if a kiss or a punch would be more appropriate.
"Actually, it does matter because they're trying to get me to join them at the moment. Not that I have any immediate intention of doing so, but they're trying," Sakura replied, hoping to get more information out of him.
"I know," he replied, "I followed them over last night. I didn't realise they were going for you. They've bugged your office but we're safe out here. Geniuses! I tried to trace them once they'd left, but I lost them downtown."

"They bugged my office. How dare they!" Sakura replied, angry. It must have been while she had left them there to take a shower. An elementary mistake; do not leave known gangsters unattended amongst your personal belongings.
"Sakura-chan, I'll get rid of it," Gaara replied. He was still smirking playfully.
"Don't call me that," Sakura snapped, more coldly than she'd intended. He raised his eyebrows. Sakura looked away and nearly a minute passed in silence. Only Naruto called her that childish honorific.

"Sorry," they both apologised at once. Sakura glanced at Gaara's face - it was truly impassive - before looking down again. Another few seconds passed in silence, before Gaara crossed the hall. Sakura didn't follow him. Her mind was reeling. Something told her to trust him more than the Akatsuki members she had dealt with the other evening. She also sensed that he would be a good fighter when he wasn't dicking about - better than most she had fought - and she wanted to test herself against him. Properly. Perhaps she could offer him a job at the dojo, after all. He seemed to know more about the Akatsuki than she did and at this stage she could hardly turn down any sources of information. However, could she really deal with his changeable personality and her ongoing desire for him, despite her best intentions.

Moments later, Gaara reappeared with a bunch of twisted metal and a few trailing wires in his hands. He grinned wryly. Sakura assumed that was the surveillance device the Akatsuki had left in her office. What did they want from her? If they wanted her to join, surely they should be trying to gain her trust, not snooping round behind her back. She was angry and confused. Gaara snapped the device in his bare hands and put in the bin. He removed and pocketed the wires.

"Gaara, about Thursday night…" Sakura started, unsure how to continue, "I just wanted to apologise…"
"Trust me, I've already forgotten about it," Gaara said.
"That bad, was it?" Sakura asked. She imitated his teasing voice.
"No, that's not it at all. It was very good, actually," Gaara said intensely. Sakura blushed, "It's just that, I didn't know who you were then and it probably shouldn't have happened considering who you are and who I am," he continued. Back to being cryptic again.
"Why? Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Gaara. You're Sakura Haruno," he said, as if that was somehow significant.
"And that's why we shouldn't have had sex?" she snapped. His logic was somewhat lost on her.
"Yeah. And why do you care? You're the one who left. It's 'just sex', isn't it?" he asked, turning her own words back on her.
"It's never 'just sex'!" Sakura said angrily.

"Can we get back to the point? I need a place to train and this is the best in the city," Gaara said.
"Who says I want you to train at my dojo?" she snapped.
"Stop being childish, Sakura," he said scornfully.
"Stop being an asshole, Gaara," she matched his tone.

They stared each other down. They had stepped closer during their exchange of heated words and neither broke eye contact. Even as she stared into Gaara's pale green eyes they flashed angrily, before calming slightly and taking on a softer tint. No matter how irritating he could be, Sakura realised she could stare into those eyes for hours without tiring of them.

Without warning, he leaned down and kissed her delicately on her full, pink lips. Sakura felt the warmth of his mouth against hers. This was not like the frantic, lusty kisses of their night spent together; it was softer, more uncertain. Gaara carefully placed a hand on the small of her back and without really intending to, Sakura moved closer to him, deepening the kiss. When they eventually broke apart Sakura stared into his unreadable eyes.

"And that makes it all better, does it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Gaara took two steps backwards and turned away from her. He put his hand to his brow and it wasn't until a few seconds afterwards that Sakura realised he was laughing silently.

"You're so unpredictable. Would you really have hit me with a katana last night?" he asked through his sniggers. Sakura fixed him with a withering glare, unimpressed by his games, "Or was it a baseball bat?" he continued, still smirking. Sakura eventually cottoned on and felt her temper rising.
"What the fuck," she spat, "Were you doing on my balcony?" God, she was annoyed. What gave him the right to do any of that?
"I told you, didn't I?" he replied lightly, "You're in danger."
"So will you be if you don't watch it! You get one last chance, before so help me God, I'll smash your face in!" she snarled. She couldn't believe she had just kissed this literal vermin. Although she was unaware of it, she had curled her fist into a tight ball, digging her nails into her palm. Gaara closed a hand over hers; a gentle gesture but one that essentially prevented her from lashing out at him. He wasn't scared of her, for all her displays of temper and tough talk, Sakura realised, he was treating her like an overindulged child.

And he was still smirking. Oh, he made her so mad.

"Calm down," he said soothingly but the smirk had not left his eyes.
She snatched herself from his grasp and stomped out of the room. She returned with some cleaning supplies; if he was going to irritate her that much he could damn well make himself useful.
"You said you wanted a job here; now get mopping," she presented him with a mop and a bucket, which he grudgingly accepted. She left for the office and spent the rest of her morning doing paperwork until one of her student's parents popped in to deliver a cheque during her lunch break.
"Why do you have a sulky hot man scrubbing the dojo?" the woman asked nosily.
"New recruit," Sakura replied cryptically. The two women chatted for a few moments before the mother returned to her office. Oh brilliant, Gaara was sulking now apparently. Sakura was well aware she was sulking, but somehow she expected more from Gaara. Maybe she got under his skin just as much as he got under hers.

Sakura filed a few more forms and approved some payments before sitting back in her chair. She was exhausted and still no closer to finding out any answers about the Akatsuki. A year ago, she had been Sasuke Uchiha's meek trophy girlfriend; a weak little girl. She was a high school dropout with no family to speak of. She had always lived in the shadow of those surrounding her - particularly Sasuke and Naruto. Now, however, she had a fearsome reputation as one of the best female fighters in the city, if not the country. She could take a man out with just one punch, all because she had been determined to prove herself. Sakura remembered what Itachi Uchiha had said, that the Akatsuki had been watching her last fight. She was now in a position to make even international criminals sit up and take notice of her. She idly wondered how closely people had been following her rise to the top of the professional circuit and whether Sasuke and Naruto were watching her.

That explained Akatsuki's interest near enough, but what about Gaara? He was a mystery to her - dynamic in the sack but a total pain in the arse. She could take his story at face value - that his dojo had burnt down and he needed somewhere to train and she was the best in the area, but that explanation left holes. He had mentioned he had followed the Akatsuki to her dojo and told her she was in great danger but had not explained why. She didn't know whether to trust him or not. Still, she wanted to find out what he knew about the Akatsuki. She had to swallow her pride and any feelings she definitely didn't have for him and make amends.

Sakura left her office and found Gaara cleaning the windows in the deserted men's changing rooms. She had to admit, he was a good worker. The normally pristine dojo was looking exceptionally immaculate, even by Sakura's high standards.
"Nice work, Gaara," Sakura said, "I expect you aren't used to cleaning but you've done a good job. Take a break and I'll put the kettle on,"
She lead Gaara into her office. She offered him a seat while she made them some hot drinks. She then sat down opposite Gaara and slowly sipped her tea. In the executive chair behind her desk, Sakura spun slowly for a second before cutting to the chase.

"What do you know about the Akatsuki?" she demanded.
"What do you know about them?" Gaara countered in the same tone. His red hair was tousled from his day spent fighting and cleaning. He was still wearing his black wife-beater although it was a little more crumpled now. Sakura hadn't noticed it before but there was a small tattoo on his shoulder with a spiral pattern. The tiny spot of blood by his left elbow was still there too, although it was dry now. He didn't seem to have noticed it but its presence was annoying Sakura. She couldn't explain why it bothered her exactly but it was probably because she didn't think it was his own blood.

The pair stared each other down, neither giving one inch. They let their questions hang unanswered in the air. Sakura was burning with curiosity but she wasn't about to give in. Gaara had evoked a stubbornness in her and a desire to keep her own limited knowledge personal. Some things about his story didn't add up. She thought it was a little strange that Gaara, a renowned fighting champion would debase himself into scrubbing the toilets in someone else's dojo without payment.

"Fine," Gaara snapped, breaking the cold silence "You don't have to trust me and I don't have to trust you. But I'm not going anywhere Sakura-chan and it would really be in your best interests to do what I say." He almost spat the childish honorific as if it were a disgusting swearword. Sakura gritted her teeth with anger. She had already told him not to call her 'Sakura-chan' and he clearly wasn't stupid, so he was just doing it to be callous.

But more than that, Sakura realised he genuinely wanted to protect her. Gaara hated the Akatsuki, Sakura realised, and that hatred ran deeper than just the average citizen's hatred for the criminal gang. This was personal. Even though they didn't exactly owe each other anything, he had taken interest in her first and he wasn't going to lose to any of the Akatsuki over this. That must be the reason for him being here today.

Well, she wasn't going to let him intimidate her. If he thought it was acceptable to speak to her like that then she was just going to be icily polite and keep things strictly professional. If he said he wasn't going to go anywhere, she could probably use that to her advantage: the dojo could do with a few repairs. Meanwhile, he could keep his bad attitude and just thank his lucky stars he didn't get to see her temper. She had enough on her plate with the Akatsuki sniffing around, without having to deal with a tetchy cage fighter with an attitude problem.

"Understood, Gaara-san," she replied sweetly, "Wash the blood off your arm," Gaara looked rather taken aback by her response but Sakura wasn't sure if that was due to her excessive politeness or her remark about blood. He licked his finger and began rubbing his arm.

The two didn't speak for the remainder of the afternoon as they began to train. Sakura warmed up by jogging and sprinting the length of the dojo and lifted weights to maintain her strength. She worked on her technique on the mat before finally taking all her anger out on the punch bag hanging from the ceiling. It would have been good to spar now that she had a training partner of sorts but Sakura was quite happy to leave that to another day.

Exhausted, Sakura finally finished her training not long after the eight o'clock sundown. She mopped her brow and drank deeply from her water bottle. Gaara was sitting on the mat, freshly showered and dressed in his shirt and slacks once again. Sakura nodded to him on her way to the women's changing rooms. She was suddenly conscious of his appreciative eye on her scantily clad body as she walked past him. He seemed so different to the smooth-talking seducer she'd met in the bar. She wasn't sure whether she preferred flirtatious Gaara or the angry, sarcastic one who had turned up in her dojo.

Sakura locked up and walked with Gaara to the parking lot. She unlocked her car before tossing her bag onto the passenger seat. Gaara subtly checked around before getting into her car and fiddling with the dashboard and radio. He felt across the ceiling and under the seats. He pulled up the cushions in the backseats, before getting out and checking in the boot and bonnet as well. Sakura was about to kick his butt when she remembered the surveillance device in her office. Once satisfied, Gaara nodded and allowed Sakura to get back in her car. She pulled out of the parking lot and gave Gaara a wave he did not return.

As far as she could see, the situation with Gaara did not improve things at all. Firstly, she had Akatsuki who wanted her to join their dangerous criminal brethren. That she could cope with, just about. It was after all, her ex's family behind the biggest crime syndicate in this part of the world, despite the fact that she was scared and disgusted by them. She didn't exactly appreciate their tactics of bugging her office. Gaara however, was different. Judging from the news reports she'd read the day before, she was sure the Akatsuki had plenty of enemies. When he showed up he had said she was in danger, hadn't he. Had that been a sick joke or a warning? His hatred for Akatsuki was evident in Sakura's view but that did not explain his presence in her life. Not that she was complaining, clearly. She enjoyed his attention, no matter how sulky or sardonic he could be.

When she was home Sakura locked and bolted all her doors, careful to keep out all unwanted intruders. She felt as if she was suddenly caught up in a dubious world of crime, gangs and murder. The underworld that had previously been a figment of bad television programmes now seemed like a very real part of her life. Sakura had no idea who to trust.

For now though, she was starving and exhausted. She cooked herself some rice and tried to ignore the gunshots she could hear echoing across the city. She thought of Gaara with his handgun in his pocket and blood down his arm. Was that how he spent his evenings? She thought of Uchiha, excessively polite yet steely cold. She could picture him blasting off rounds with the same expressionless look in his eyes.

Sakura was scared. If she had been the type of girl who cried, she was sure she would be in tears right now. Instead, she kept calm and allowed numbness to fill her core. She was terrified and confused; she suddenly felt very small. Sakura wolfed down her rice and double checked her doors and windows. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up under her covers and hope she would soon wake up from the nightmare her life had become.

Once settled in bed, Sakura reached over to look at her photos of Naruto. If only she knew where he was, he would be able to help her sort out this mess. Naruto would know exactly what to do: he'd kick Gaara's ass and the whole of the Akatsuki's collective asses and then come back grinning all over his face, like he did when they were children. Sakura looked at the photo, expecting to see Naruto's grinning face. Instead her heart froze when she saw it. Tucked into the top corner of the frame was a black business card. It had a red cloud pattern on it, which Sakura instantly recognised as the emblem of the Akatsuki.

It had definitely not been there last night. Sakura fought the urge to scream. Cold dread was creeping all over her body. They had been here. She was no longer safe in her own home. They had got in somehow, and Sakura knew her security was tight. The doors were locked, no windows had been smashed: she didn't dare speculate how they'd entered her flat. Although she was practically paralysed with fear, Sakura reached for the business card. She half-expected it to be blank and acting only as a shock tactic, to show her the Akatsuki's power.

She turned it over and revealed the name: Itachi Uchiha, followed by a cell number.

Well, if Uchiha wanted her to call him there were better ways of making it happen than breaking into her apartment, Sakura thought angrily, before realising there were not. This was exactly what Uchiha would have wanted. She could picture his thought processes: he hoped she would be scared, confused and demanding answers, and a business card with a contact number that would provide the answers would seem like a godsend.

Leaving the cell number was a trap.

She had no intention of ringing Uchiha. Still, she retrieved her cell phone and programmed in the new contact. She flicked through her phonebook. She now had Gaara and Itachi Uchiha both saved, though she had no real desire to speak to either of them. In fact, the only person she did want to speak to, the grinning golden-haired troublemaker who could magically make all her problems go away, she didn't have a contact number for.

Sakura rolled over and through her sheer exhaustion, slipped into an uneasy sleep. As she dozed fitfully, she was unaware of the commotions in the criminal underworld and the eyes watching her every move from across the city.