A/N: Thank you to readers and reviewers Gaaras1Girl, pillowwolfpup, miikodesu, SasoLOVE111, and FreedomIsPirateKey. It was very much appreciated!

Sorry this was a bit delayed. I had one of those short traumatic moments where u think ur life is ending and u have to change ur attitude about it. lol, I'm glad that's over.

Answers to a couple comments from the reviews:

-Sakura does have friends, but I haven't really put the spotlight on them yet. You hear a bit about them in this chapter. But no, she is not a loner.

-About the eyes. I know I've been stressing Gaara's eyes a lot. It might become a bad habit, but I stress the eyes b/c I think that is how people acknowledge/connect with each other. When u meet someone, u look into their eyes. Your eyes are like the fundamental connection between two people. You cannot know someone if you like just stare at their nose the whole time. It's the eyes that signify each other's acknowledge of each other, and I also think, green eyes are just very special and luring.

Here's Chapter 4. Read on!

Sweet Dreams

Chapter 4

He knew.

Somehow he knew.

The more Sakura knew, the more she was intrigued, and the more she wanted to know.

She should've known.

Curiosity killed the cat.

All she'd done was skip all her breaks with her friends (whom she really, really owes an excuse) and prop underneath the bleachers of the football field, watching him.

It wasn't a bad place, really. From his seat, the provided angle obscured her lying underneath the musty, aluminum bench. She knows this because it took her half an hour after school to finally find the one hiding spot in which his spot would not be able to see. And she must say, regardless of the extreme awkwardness in the situation, the spot was pretty comfortable. The sun hit the bench on just the right places and cracks, and this one time, she almost took a nap.

It was oddly self-satisfying even though he almost never does anything except either one, listen to his I-Pod (from her spot, it looked like a black iPod Classic) or two, do homework. Most of the time, he just sat there unmoving, ear plugs plugged in ears, and eyes closed.

Somehow just watching him was enough. The calm misdemeanor and quietness of him was a strange aura of its own; just by watching him, Sakura felt an odd sense of peace settle around her, a feeling of content and relaxation. During class, as much as she could, she would sneak a long look at his face as he entered the class. She would see the cold paleness and bleak, narrowed eyes that glimmered with scorn as he immediately, like always, walked to the back and sat down. He emitted the feeling of such a cold –leave-me-alone- vibe that people steered clear of him.

Yet, here, in the football stadium- rows and rows of white benches all facing the green center, the edges of his face seemed to soften. When he closed his eyes, he seemed to submit all his soul and let go of himself. He looked vulnerable.

Well, maybe vulnerable wasn't the word.

It was just easier to imagine him feeling emotions- raw, human emotions.

The idea that now she had something worthwhile and meaningful to do during break –stare at Gaara for twenty minutes- made her feel slightly more…

Important?

She didn't know the word that described how she felt.

Every day at 10:30 AM, she would race out of her Algebra 2 Honors class and dump her backpack at the Spanish classroom, with a bag of apple slices in her hands. She came to school with all her books packed in her bag; her locker was dusty and empty of all, except for a crumpled sheet of notebook paper she had thrown in there during a moment of haste. It didn't matter anymore that her backpack now weighed a ton and she came home with sore arms and back.

She would eat her snack quickly as she ran, well more like power walk, through the crowds, ignore her friends' hellos and questions, stride across the buildings, slink down the long stairs and finally run quietly to the football field and slide into her little, cozy area. Her breath would be uneven by the time she got there, but it was worth it.

At 10:36 AM, the usual long, black pants came into her view. He had a steady gait, foot after foot- not in a hurry nor sluggishly slow. His shoes were quiet as he clambered down the steps then turned at the fifth row. His black pack was hung over his shoulder comfortably, and then he would sit down.

Next, he would open his backpack, stick in his pale arm, and emerge with his music player clasped in hand. He then inserts his ear plugs into his ears at a slow, leisure pace, and the soft clicking noise of the I-Pod would emerge as he scrolls down the list of his songs. He would pick one, and once he did, he settled in, closed his eyes, and was quiet.

Finding his "secret" destination in which he avoided assemblies and interaction with other students was actually fairly simple. All she did was lock her eyes on the redhead on one of the dense crowd migration during break. Because of her frail figure, she was able to slip through bodies and kept up with his stride. At first, it had been a little unsettling because the crowd eventually thinned. Whereas everyone was heading towards their lockers or such, he was heading south. South, where the football stadium and gym was located, somewhere one wouldn't go during break. She had to lighten her step and find a convenient tree or structure to hide behind in case he ever turns back. Strangely though, she never remembered him looking back, and once she saw where he was headed, she lurked back up the stairs and back to her locker.

It was too much of a risk.

But as days went by, she couldn't resist. Soon, she found herself sneaking down there to see what he did, but it was impossible to do because she was too far to ever notice anything and the angle was inaccurate. However, she did notice he sat in the same spot every single day. Thus, one day she stayed after school, crawling over benches and exploring every niche of the field and finally found a designation spot of her own. The perfect hideaway that gave access to a full monitor of Gaara.

And she was intrigued. She watched and memorized the movements of his; they were very distinct. Whenever he sat down, he would slide his backpack off his right shoulder and gracefully set it down next to him. His stride was made to get to the destination he wanted. There were no quickness, no skip, no slowness. It was almost like a machine, mechanic- walk walk walk, turn, sit. He sat in the fifth row, 3/4s in, the same spot, every day. His posture was straight- not shameful or trying to hide anything.

And his complexion. Dark musty red intermixed with strands of brown over pale face and those jewels of jade.

She too, owned green eyes, so she was puzzled at first why she devoted so much time fascinating over his eyes. But his eyes were different. There was a glaze over them, a look of blur that clouded his sight. It was as if he saw through everything. Nothing mattered to him. He easily looked through things as if they weren't even there. Back when he had made eye contact with her during the incident, it was a shock because his eyes had registered her. And not just register her, but also seemed to stare straight down to all her feelings and thoughts and vulnerability and weaknesses.

His eyes held power.

But more importantly, his eyes held secrets.

It was not enough for her to just examine him during breaks. Soon, she found herself looking for him during lunch, and incidentally, he came back down to the bleachers during lunch. Now, she had thirty minutes to observe him, so twenty plus thirty equals fifty minutes every day to observe this stranger she was already so immensely fascinated and captivated with.

A little part of her subconscious felt bad for her friends. Ino's puzzling gaze and Hinata's hurt look and Tenten's look of suspicion was intimidating enough for her to want to totally avoid them all together during school. She knew they were confused as to why all of a sudden, she was untraceable and she was never there during breaks or lunch.

But it was something they wouldn't understand.

Ino immediately would clap her hand over her mouth and her eyes would glow as she squeal, 'you like himmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!'

Hinata would give her a shy smile, a twinkle lit up in her eyes.

Tenten would be horrified, huffing and storming about, wondering what the hell made this guy worth more than their friendship, and then demand to drag him out of his quiet existence.

While she wouldn't mind if Ino and Hinata thought she liked him- well actually, she would mind, but it was a veritable excuse that would cover up her strange obsession- it would be hell no if Tenten decided to investigate.

Ino and Hinata would completely agree. They would never allow their friend to "date" or be "seduced" by someone not worthy.

Ugh.

They simply wouldn't understand her fascination was nothing related to love. Her obsession was something entirely different, something she could not comprehend herself.

At the same time, she would never allow any of them find him. It was a strange type of possession that burned in her, but her insides curled with anger whenever she thought of them pouncing on him and invading his personal space.

There was an aura of loneliness and ambiguity that surrounded him that made him Gaara.

He wanted it, and she knew he would not appreciate it.

There was another selfish reason: once exposed, he wouldn't be her Gaara anymore.

She was good into two weeks of observation. She would find herself curled underneath the bench, her body perfectly at ease, her heart a slow, melodious beat within her chest.

She would stare up unblinkingly at his figure as he basked in the sun. At first, it was weird for her, but by now she just accepted it even though she didn't understand it. Staring at him for fifty minutes doing nothing was satisfying. It made her content.

She had already traced his face over and over for countless times.

Sometimes, she would close her eyes and drift off herself. Somehow, just being in this wide expanse of space –meters and meters of green grass stretching out below them- with his presence, just filled the space in her so well it hurt.

Until then, all of a sudden, he stopped showing up.

He still came to history class-

He still never showed up during assemblies and breaks-

He was still a student here; she asked a teacher, pretending it was a name that people were throwing around through gossip and faking it as mere curiosity-

But inside, her body was filled with dread panic.

The peace inside of her shattered as she contemplated where he had gone, why he had mysteriously vanished.

And then she realized,

He knows.

Somehow he knows.

He knows I'm here.

He must've switched hiding spots.

And so began the game of cat and mouse.

A part of her wondered,

If this is a game of cat and mouse,

Does this mean I am the cat?

Is Gaara then the mouse?

It didn't seem quite right to her.

After a week, she was nearly driven insane. She couldn't find him at all! She searched the entire school- the library, the classrooms (which turned out to be a very bad idea because some of the encounters she found were ones that made her blush to the root of her hairline), the bathrooms (well, she snuck in very fast and realized that was a very unreasonable place because of the smell and the popularity of the area), the offices, the gym, the bleachers (in case he switched seats), the locker area… it was exhausting.

He was nowhere, and she had scoured every corner she could possibly think of!

She realized that he could of course, sneak locations and switch off every day, but from what she's observed, she deducted he wouldn't go to the energy of finding a new spot every day. There was still a possibility though, and it would be better off if she employed her friends in the investigation, but-

She didn't like the cost of that.

He was still her secret.

Finally, she stalked him.

It was the last thing she could think of, and at least it was getting somewhere. And now that she thinks about it, stalking him was probably not as bad as observing him, because an outsider would claim observing him was as bad as a naughty peeping Tom. So there was nothing to be ashamed of, even though it was somewhat degrading for Sakura to accept she had to resort to this.

She followed him out of history class, knowing very well that meant she was ditching science class and a detention would follow. But screw detention. She didn't care.

Strange, because she's never ditched class before.

This time, she had the decency to be afraid. He could easily turn around and pin her down because of the lack of trees around the area.

This area was where the art buildings were located, so clearly, he was heading towards a fine arts class. Funny, she couldn't imagine Gaara painting or making a pot. He didn't seem like the artsy type to her.

When he finally reached his destination, her eyes widened and she froze.

Figures.

It was lunch time.

Her cold, sweaty hand gripped the doorknob. Slowly, she turned the knob and pushed it open to meet the darkness of the classroom.

She released the knob gradually, easing the door shut silently behind her. The room seemed tense to her, but maybe it was just because she was still grappling with what she was about to do.

But she had to.

Her eyes scanned along the walls of the classroom until finally, they found the light switch. She slid across the floor, flicking the switch on as soft light flooded the room.

She let out a breath.

Her eyes settled onto the cubbyholes opposite from her and flickered through the name labels on the top until finally, they rested on one.

Gaara

He doesn't have last name? she thought distractingly as she headed towards the compartments.

(So many secrets)

She leaned down until her weight rested on her knees as her eye became level with the box. Inside, she could see a neat stack.

Her breath tightened inside her.

A stack of maybe twenty, thirty pictures.

It seemed to fit perfectly with him; it was something she totally should have expected coming from him.

He took Photo Class.

Her daddy was a photographer. Her mommy had told her, photographers were observers in disguise. They observe the universe, the nature of it all, and take a snapshot illuminating an angle of truth.

Perception.

Trembling, her hand lifted up daintily, rising closer and closer up to the opening. She was ready to grab hold of the pictures-

A snarl erupted the silence of the room as an arm suddenly snaked its way around her neck.

She gasped, her mouth open in a silent scream as she was lifted from her kneel and stumbled backwards.

Her head was tipped forward, and she met the glint of a predator's eyes.

Jade met jade.

Her eyes snapped open as her energy drained from her. Suddenly, she felt weak and her legs gave way behind her. Her heart pounded fast and flightly, like a bird.

Her trembles grew violently as her eyes froze on his, trapped.

The warmth of his arm seared against her neck, but it was more because of the fact that it was clenched tight, and it was hard to breathe.

At one point, she remembered she couldn't, because she choked against his arm.

Her silent scream started to form into whimpers, whimpers of pain and fear as she wriggled against his clasp.

He silenced her as his head leaned down towards her neck, his eyes mockingly sharp.

"I will give you exactly one minute to explain," came the hoarse growl.

A/N: haha, a cliffie! ;) please review to find out what happens…!

P.S. For some reason, I feel as if my tone is not consistent throughout the story. I would like to know what you think!

P.S.S. For some reason, the little dashes - that i insert between different sections in chapter 1, 2, and 3 did not show up. do any of u know how to fix it?