A/N: Are you sick of these yet?

Anywho, I still haven't gotten much feedback about the Devoted thing (Do you want me to post a chapter or not, guys?) and it's making me sad. Thanks to hairexnoire for checking it out though! It means a lot to me. :D

The reviews came in STORMS right after I posted the last one. It was like, everyone read it from 8-12 or something. Then traffic slowed down considerably after that. Anywho, you guys are wonderful! No worries, peeps, slightly psycho + seductive Gaara will be back soon. Sweet Gaara is fun to write about, though.

I watched Harry Potter 6 today and am ecstatic! There were a few things I didn't like about it, but overall I thought it was the best one! *is giddy* Also, I have decided that I might go watch New Moon in theaters, just so I can stare at Taylor Lautner's shmexy chest for a couple hours. They BETTER have at least 20 minutes worth of shmexy chest shots. Otherwise I'll demand reimbursement. Sorry. I'm a hormonally-driven teenage girl. I. Like. Man. Abs. And backs. I reeeeaaaallly like backs. I could stare at a hot guy's back for ages, and then demand that he stay still so I can try and draw it. Backs are just beautiful, ne?

Also, I apologize for some weirdness in the previous chappie. For some reason, I don't think FF accepts .coms or too many asterisks. My asterisks literally disappear, and it looks like bad organization on my part. Unfortunately, I'm a lazy bum, so rather than fix the problem I'm just going to point it out. Also, in this chapter, although I write this in third person, there might be POV shifts. Like, third person from Gaara's POV to Hinata's POV to Sasuke's POV. Hopefully, this isn't even noticeable, but…

Disclaimer: How many times do I have to say this, and in how many different ways? If I owned Naruto… well…I dunno. I'd be richer, I guess. :D

Chapter 7

0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o

Hinata sat inside the girl's bathroom at the Yamanaka's flower shop, nervously twiddling her thumbs as she waited for Ino to emerge from inside her vast (and well-hidden) closet. After telling the exuberant blonde about her "date", Hinata had found herself the object of the girl's attention. More than anything, she wanted to dress Hinata up. Feeling for all the world like a life-size doll, Hinata hugged her knees together. It felt awkward just sitting there in her underwear, letting Ino dictate what she should wear and what she shouldn't. When Hinata mentioned her old summer dress, Ino had given her a strange look and stuck out her tongue.

"He's already seen you in that!" she complained, pulling out a hot pink minidress that would look amazing on her but would clash horrifyingly with Hinata's blue-violet-black-white-gray palette. Curling her lip, she thrust it back into the wardrobe. "You need something that shows him that you actually do like him. Something… a bit shorter, ne?"

Hinata flushed pink. She'd never exposed skin above her knees. There were public pools in Konoha, but not any that she'd visited since she'd hit puberty, preferring instead to do laps in the Hyuuga manor's massive one. Even sitting here with another girl, she felt embarrassed, trying every now and again to cover herself from Ino's all-seeing eyes.

Ino turned to her and made a face. "Your underwear isn't cute, either," she said, motioning to Hinata's current sport's-bra-and-boy-shorts combo. She dove deeper into the closet. "What are you, like a 34C?"

Bashfully, Hinata nodded. She didn't even want to know how Ino had guessed her size in one. Of course, when the blonde produced a lacy black brassiere (with a matching bikini), she had turned red, and when the girl held it out to her and expected her to change into it right in front of her, she'd almost died of blood loss. Eventually, she ended up in the stall, pulling the too-sexy undies on and walking out feeling more exposed than ever before.

"Hi-na-ta," Ino said approvingly. "Sexy." She tossed her something made of red cotton. "Okay, now try this."

Hinata fumbled with the dress and then unfolded it.

It was very pretty and very simple, with thin straps and a straight (rather than plunging, something Hinata was very grateful for) neckline that would likely show her collar and chest but not much cleavage. The dress flared out from the hips and ended just above the knees. The hem was decorated with a woven eyelet design and a single ribbon stretched across the waist.

"It's lovely," Hinata admitted. She put it on gingerly, and then looked at herself in the mirror. "It truly is."

Ino stared at her for a moment. "I knew red would work on you. I was thinking of going for blue, you know, to match your eyes and whatnot, but this pops soo much better. And you've got that gentle angel face, so I couldn't put you in anything skimpy…" She sounded a bit disappointed at the last part. Then, her eyes lit up again. "Wait here," she said, and then she rushed out of the bathroom and into the main store, vanishing amongst the flora.

Hinata checked her watch, wrinkling her toes against the cold tile. "I have only ten minutes until Gaara comes to pick me up, Ino-chan," she called to her new friend. When she heard no response, she tiptoed over to the closet to look for some shoes.

Ino had a vast collection of those as well, but most of them didn't suit her tastes—too flashy, too high, too thin, too strappy. She was a simple girl, the kind who only wore high heels on special occasions and usually wobbled like a duck when she walked in them. She trailed her hands along the shelves until she spotted a pair of simple black flats and slipped into them.

Ino returned with a single blood-red rose, thornless. She smiled down at Hinata, nodded approvingly toward the shoes, and handed her the flower.

"For him," she said with a smile. "It matches your dress. Boys don't like flowers much, but since you have nothing for him…" (Here, Hinata flinched; knowing that the only thing he liked was food and making a bento in the Hyuuga manor after school would likely arouse suspicion, she had not gotten him a gift of any sort) "…I'd thought he might appreciate the thought."

Hinata smiled and spun the flower shyly between two fingers. "You're too kind, Ino-chan. T-Thank you."

The Yamanka gave Hinata a long, appraising look, and then pulled her close for her a hug.

"Knock 'im dead, Hinata-chan!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

What was this feeling?

Gaara clutched his gourd's strap possessively, his fingers digging through the fabric and into his palms. He remembered the events from that afternoon all too clearly, but the memory still did not seem real.

**

Hinata twirled the glass rose between her hands, her face flushed with content. It looked like she couldn't stop smiling. He remembered how enthralled he had been with her anger and decided that he wasn't sure which he liked best. He could see why her mother had named her so—she seemed to teem with sunshine that even he, Gaara of the Sand, could feel.

"Thank you," she whispered again, looking up at him shyly through her eyelashes. It was strange how the gift had mellowed her. He frowned, wondering whether she was so simple as to follow right along with Kankuro's advice. Where all girls so sensitive to gifts?

Oh well, he had decided. All that mattered was that she had forgiven him.

He turned to her.

"I would like to…entertain you tonight."

She had looked up in shock and nearly dropped her present. Her pale eyes seemed as wide as saucers.

"G-Gaara!" she whispered, dropping the honorifics entirely. "Are you asking me out?"

He smiled. The phrase sounded strange in relation to him, but he could accept that. "Yes," he had said. "I am."

For the next ten minutes, she did not speak a word and pretended to be enraptured by Kurenai-sensei's lecture. He noticed, however, that instead of taking notes, she clutched her pencil tightly, and that, occasionally, her gaze would wander to her lap or her clenched fist.

Then she looked at him from the corner of her eye, flushed red, and whispered, "Okay."

He thought he could have ruled the world at that moment.

**

His sand trickled lazily from the gourd at the memory, and he willed it to stay still. It was strange how well-intertwined his feelings were with Shuukaku's—and he wondered at times whether this was a good thing. Perhaps, with her around, Shuukaku would be as punch-drunk as he was and not try to convince him to feed. It was evident, really, that since his arrival in Konoha, Shuukaku had quieted considerably, sometimes not bothering him for days at a time.

Was it her presence? Was such a horrible creature as enraptured with her as he?

He stepped into the Yamanaka's store, where they had agreed to meet. The blond girl was at the counter, and when he entered she smiled brightly and waved. He liked her. She was loud and nosy, but at least she seemed to be good to Hinata and gave her more attention than the cursory glances the others seemed to offer (or, in sharp contrast, that too-close brotherly-ness the dog boy showed).

"Hinata's in the back," Ino said. Gaara nodded once.

"Get her for me," he said. He didn't intend for the command to sound rude, but please was not part of his vocabulary and he wasn't about to grovel to her. Naturally, she obeyed, but he couldn't tell whether it was from intimidation or excitement on her part. He faintly heard her saying something, and could only barely make out Hinata's mumbled response. The flowers were thick around him and he could only just see past the plethora of colors.

"Gaara."

And then he saw her.

This dress was even more tantalizing than the one she had worn for the Uchiha. It was deep red, the color of his hair, the color of the rose she held shyly in her hands, and only shades deeper than the flush on her face. Her legs were bare and untouched by the sun, and he saw more of her neck than ever before. It made him want to run his lips down its length, but now was neither the time nor the place…

She placed the rose in his hands. "It isn't much, but…"

His smile was barely noticeable, but there, and in return she smiled as well. Carefully, he plucked the head off of the rose, much to her horror, and when she opened her mouth to complain, gently shushed her.

"Stay still," he said. He pushed her hair gently behind her ear, placing the rose there. It was a small addition, but strangely befitting. She beamed up at him and touched his hand.

At first, he was unsure of what to do with it, but slowly, surely, he wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed it tightly. They both shuddered; the contact felt complete. He never wanted to let go.

"Shall we leave?"

Hinata waved fervently to Ino, who gave her a thumbs-up, and then nodded her assent. Smirking, he guided her out of the store and into the open, bustling Konoha streets.

"What would you like to do?"

The question came as a surprise, and Gaara's head snapped down to look at his date. He hadn't really thought about that. He knew quite well who he would want to do, but really had only wanted to spend more time with her. It hadn't even occurred to him that she would likely want to spend the time doing something.

Hinata took his silence for indecision and peered around. The corner of Konoha near the Yamanaka's had developed rapidly, and, with the civilian population overcoming the shinobi one quickly, always seemed full of shoppers and the like. A huge movie theater had recently been erected a few blocks away. She had never been allowed in—her Father was old in his ways and believed that sitting blankly to do anything but meditate would rot a shinobi's instincts—but had always wanted to. There was a movie coming out, an obvious Chick Flick, that she yearned to see, but it would be embarrassing to ask him to watch that with her…

On second thought, the fact that Sabaku no Gaara was going on a date in the first place would have surprised anyone.

"C-Can we go there?" she said, pointing down to the theater. He followed her finger to the huge, looming, colorful building, and nodded his head once. His hand alternately tightened and loosened around hers as they approached the building, bought the ticket (the teenage girl at the till didn't seem sure of whether to drool over Gaara or shy away from him), and entered the theater.

Within the first ten minutes Hinata was in a daze. The movie was cheesy beyond belief, but she had only seen a few and that made it precious. The theater was nearly empty—she spied a group of girls sitting a few rows below them and a woman and her reluctant boyfriend far down to their left. She and Gaara, naturally, had taken the center-back; she'd heard Sakura mention that those were the best seats.

The storyline was simple and a little cliché. Girl and boy meet. Boy is a complete jerk, until he realizes that he loves Girl. But Girl has moved on and found another man. Boy goes on a mission to win Girl back, yada yada yada.

But for Gaara the film was enlightening, though unrealistic. The Girl leaped back into the Boy's arms too easily, he thought. He hardly had to put in any effort to get rid of the other guy, who ended up becoming a girlfriend-beating villain. But he noticed how moved the girl next to him seemed to be by their lines, predominantly those three words whispered when the Girl and Boy were reunited.

I love you.

Hinata leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed steadily, tracing his palm with her finger. She seemed more fearless when it came to touching him, and all day seemed to be doing it more and more. He shuddered again, relishing the feeling.

When they walked out, his arm was around her waist.

"That was nice," she whispered. The sun nestled the horizon, staining the sky orange. Hinata could not help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu; the scene seemed an exact replica of the one with Sasuke.

"The girl was really pretty," she mused. Gaara thought about it briefly and then shrugged. She had been pretty, although he thought the role of the sweet, tempered student had not quite suited the model-perfect actress they had chosen. He hadn't been attracted to her in the least, and said so.

"You're far prettier than she was," he said, and then she blushed.

They walked, almost aimlessly. Hinata sighed, knowing that her father would ask questions when she came back late, but she would stomach the scoldings. Today had been too wonderful. She didn't want it to end.

She had no idea why she felt such a strong connection with Gaara. She had known she liked him from the beginning, and it had been so effortless. He didn't speak much, but his adoration was flattering and obvious. He had caused her heartache, true, especially when he kissed her and left her wondering whether he was only after her body, but thinking hard, she decided that he could have had so many other easier targets if that were the case. He liked her. She liked him. It was easy. She looked up at him and marveled at how beautiful he was. Sasuke was attractive without a doubt, but Gaara had something he lacked, something Hinata couldn't quite put her finger on. It was an almost ghostly quality that made him seem otherworldly and divine. The faint glow his pale skin seemed to give? The straight back, the sinewed, strong, smooth arms? Those lips, just slightly pink, and the envy of every girl in Konoha?

And he was hers. That was the best part. He was hers.

By the time they had entered the small park, the sun had nearly set. Hinata sat down on a small bench, swinging her legs happily.

"Gaara," she said teasingly, "I'm thirsty."

It was a scene from the movie. The Girl had dragged the Boy all over town with her, ending her voyage in a park like this one. After forcing him to carry half of her bags, she had said those same words and ordered the poor Boy to get her a soda.

Gaara smiled. He had seen the vending machine not far from them anyway. Standing tall, he nodded once.

"A tea again?" he asked. She nodded, glowing—he'd remembered. He sauntered off, leaving her on the bench.

For a minute, she swung her legs happily, feeling right for once in her life. Today could not possibly get any better.

"Hey, girly," came a voice. "Why're you here all alone?"

**

Gaara walked back, drink in hand. His brow furrowed. There was something wrong. Shuukaku could sense, not one, but four people directly ahead. His senses spiked, and he rushed forward, holding the tea precariously. And then he spotted them.

Hinata was sitting on the bench, looking up anxiously at the three men surrounding her. They hadn't touched her yet, but Gaara could read in them a very strong desire to do so. They smelled heavily of alcohol and other, more potent, things. Hinata looked clueless, if nervous—she clutched the hem of her skirt and her gaze seemed to dart helplessly to her feet.

And then, he slowed to a stop. He should not forget. She was shinobi; she could defend herself. He would step in if and only if he needed to.

"Excuse me," he heard her say, "I should really g-get back to my d-date…"

"Aw, c'mon," one of the men said. "Don't be a spoilsport." He opened up his arms. "Good-lookin' guys like us, beautiful girl like yourself?"

"Yea," another one said, "Let's have some fun, ne?"

Hinata narrowed her eyes. "No thank you. P-please, excuse me."

She stood up now, but they were standing so close together that she almost had to jerk her head up to look at one of them properly. The space made her uncomfortable, and she backed up again, her knees giving way against the bench. When she plopped back down gracelessly, they laughed. Gaara studied them warily. They were not shinobi, but civilians. Was that why she hadn't done away with them yet?

At that moment, one of the men made a grave mistake. He reached for her arm, painfully jerking it back. "We don't take no real well, okay, little missy?"

Gaara wasn't completely aware of what happened next. Just that his scream sounded in unison with another, something louder and more horrible and wilder. The Shuukaku erupted within him, and a surge of sand blew out from his gourd. The grass around the men's feet browned and died, the dirt drying into dark brown sand, congealing, and trapping them there. They looked at each other, confused, and then horrified. Hinata grabbed the back of the bench, looking relieved, and keeping her feet decisively off of the ground.

"G-Gaara!" she breathed, smiling. "Thank goodne—"

Her words turned abruptly into a scream.

His face. What had happened to his face? Half of it seemed to be swelling, becoming something horrible that was not him. His left cheek looked half-flesh, half-sand, cracked and gold and too big for his head. His mouth seemed to have been ripped open at one side, too wide, the teeth sharpened to knife-like points.

The most haunting part of it all, however, were his eyes.

They had once been so beautiful, a misty sea-green. They had once looked into her soul and made her blush with happiness and embarrassment.

But now, the whites were gone, replaced with black, and the pupil that she could not find before revealed itself in the form of a too-large golden circle. Her hands clutched at her heart, then wound themselves into her hair, then clapped over her mouth. The screams pressed through, but they had to stop. He looked horrible. He looked feral. He looked like he could, and would, kill her. The fear drowned out her reason and flooded her with apprehensions and fright.

But he was still Gaara in there… right?

Gaara guided the sand up their legs and clenched his outstretched fists. Three long, agonizing screams punctured the air. The stench of blood and ruined tissue and bone grew strong. His smile grew as Shuukaku fed. It had been so long. Too long.

The sand slithered up the men's bodies with devastating speed, and soon they were cocooned in it. They no longer sounded drunk—their wails and pleadings were sober enough. This was something he could do without the Shuukaku. Destroying them was so easy. All it took was a simple flex of his hand—

"Stop! Oh god, oh, please, Gaara!"

Her voice was distant to his ears, and when he suddenly felt a warm weight push against him, he was surprised.

"Stop, stop, stop!" her wails punctuated the air, sharp, tortured sounds that made the men's agony sound muffled. He felt wet hands on his chest, clutching his shirt. "Gaara, please, please. Don't!"

Her hands slithered around to his back, holding him close. She cried helplessly into his chest.

No one had never touched him when he was like this. Never like this.

He felt the sand slither back into his gourd rapidly, releasing the men, who fell heavily to the barren ground beneath them. Blood pooled sickeningly from their pulverized legs. Gradually, the Shuukaku retreated. His eyes were the first to change back, becoming sharp green again. The rest of his face followed suit, lightening, receding and becoming human again. Her hands moved up to check him, to touch his face and make sure it had really been restored.

"G-Gaara!" she croaked against him, moving her hands back to his waist again and pulling him close. "Oh. Oh…"

His knees felt weak. He dropped to them, and she followed him down, moving her arms to his neck and sobbing against him. Hesitantly, he moved his own to her waist and pulled her to him. His breathing felt shallow and sharp.

He had scared her. Oh god. He'd scared her. His gourd fell soundlessly to the ground.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. An apology had never sounded so sincere on his lips. She trembled and sniffled. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't deserve her. He had been too selfish, too mindless. Absent-mindedly, he traced the tattoo on his forehead. Hadn't he told himself, so many years ago, to love only himself? Had that not been his mantra? Someone like him could not love others—that was his true curse. Before, he had been sure that it was others who could never love him, who would always find him despicable. His siblings had changed that mindset a few years ago, and Hinata now. If she stayed with him, she would get hurt. He had to break this off.

"Hinata," he said, pulling her away from him briefly. She was flushed red, her face streaked in tears. "Please, Hinata. Go…go to the Uchiha."

The emotions that flickered across her face were hard to read. There was shock, of course, and then annoyance, and then pain. Deep-rooted pain. She smiled, but she did not look happy.

And then she surprised him again. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his tattoo. "No."

Her refusal made him happy, so happy that he felt his chest ache. But being moved was foolish. He knew what was best for her.

"Hinata. Please. I am…I'm dangerous."

She was tracing the tattoo with her finger now, gently going over the strokes again and again and again.

"And so is he. And so am I." She ran her hand down his cheek now, touching him so confidently as if she owned his face. He scowled.

"You know very well that that is not the same." He let out a shuddering breath. "I scared you."

Hinata paused. He felt her quake, and then settle. "I don't care," she whispered. "Gaara, please…please don't think I think any less of you."

At this, he felt himself break down. "How can't I? I just lost control. I hurt them. I could have hurt you. Don't you understand that? You would have been…just like tha--!"

Her lips crashed against his. He shut himself up immediately, eagerly responding to her invitation and kissing her back. His hands knotted themselves in her hair as hers settled on either side of his face, pulling him closer. She was fearless this time, tracing her tongue experimentally along his lips, taking the initiative. She tasted like popcorn and tears.

And then, suddenly, she broke away.

"I don't care, Gaara," she said. "I…really like you. Regardless of…the Shuukaku."

He nestled his head securely on her shoulder and let her hold him. "You are foolish."

Hinata chuckled weakly. Her hands moved in soothing circles on his back. "So are you. You wanted me to make my choice so badly, and now I have and you tell me that I'm wrong. Stupid, stupid boy…"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The men in the park had been taken and healed, their memories of the night before wiped by trauma and too much drink. Hinata was relieved, of course, but part of her was overjoyed that last night's events had happened.

Even when she had loved Naruto, she had been so unsure of how she would react if she ever saw him in his demon form. She had always wondered whether she would still feel anything for him after spying him covered in spiraling red chakra, fur and sporting a set of fangs. The same uncertainty had arisen when she was with Gaara, especially since his demonic nature was so much closer at hand than Naruto's. She had heard worse things about the Shuukaku. Naruto, if he transformed, would have to do so in increments of a sort, tail by tail. Gaara, on the other hand, could turn in one step if he allowed himself the liberty.

Now, at least, she had her answer. That, in itself, lightened her heart considerably.

And, of course, Gaara had been paying her extra attention since the incident. It seemed as though he couldn't stop touching her, her hands, her waist, her face.

Like now. He was currently trying very hard to hold her hand under the desk and jot down his notes at the same time. She blushed and pushed her hair behind her ear, peering shyly over at him. He smiled gently, no longer making an effort to hide the warmth, and if they weren't in class, she would have kissed him.

Of course, once lunch came around again, they'd have the room all to themselves. The moment the bell rang, she felt his hand creep down to her hip, sliding up to her waist and dragging her jacket up with it. Warningly, she pushed his hand away and began opening up their bento, but it quickly replaced itself. He pulled her to him and held her close.

"I love you," he whispered.

She smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "I know," she said. Part of her wanted to return the statement, but love was such a strong word. It was what she felt, but speaking it aloud so early felt taboo.

He knew this and didn't object to it. He pulled her away and traced her lips slowly with his thumb.

"May I…?" he asked. She nodded, closing her eyes as he kissed her gently. A strange feeling welled up in her chest. She loved this feeling. She had, for almost a year now, been showered with praises for her intelligence, for her improvement. It was nice to be appreciated for her strength, but to be loved was another thing. She felt desired and beautiful. She felt wanted. She kissed him again, and then gently put some distance between them.

"We have to eat," she told him, pointing to the overfilled bento. "I refuse to miss lunch today because you're only interested in snogging."

He laughed and eased her back onto her chair. Snapping open his chopsticks, he obeyed and popped a roll of sushi into his mouth.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sasuke looked out into the sky, watching the clouds as they drifted lazily by. He hadn't seen Hinata all week—he and Naruto had skipped for a few days to play video games and generally fool around—and now more than anything he wanted to be with her. It had been his way to reboot after his sort-of rejection, and it had served him well. He felt rejuvenated and ready to start up his systems again, to initiate Plan B. Or was this C?

Naruto bounced next to him excitedly as they burst through the door, four hours fashionably late for school. The blonde chattered incessantly about this and that, too stupid and clueless to notice when Sasuke stopped walking.

"Sakura," Sasuke heaved, "Get out of the way."

The pink-haired kunoichi had positioned herself right in front of them, blocking their path in the narrow hallway. Sakura scowled, but the expression was very short-lived, replaced almost immediately with a triumphant smile.

"You shouldn't have taken such a long break," she said simply, flipping her pink hair coquettishly. "You've completely lost."

Sasuke's brow furrowed, and Naruto peeked over his shoulder, a light blush coiling over his cheeks at the sight of his long-time (unrequited) love.

"Sakura-chan? What do you mean teme's lost?"

Sakura smirked, catching Sasuke's black eyes with her jade ones. "He knows."

She cocked a hip to one side, watching with glee as Sasuke's eyes widened further and further until they flitted to his watch, around the halls and then to his feet. Shoving her out of the way, Sasuke launched himself down the halls, ignoring the sounds of people tripping over themselves to get out of his way and the calls for him to be careful.

Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit! What could he have done while I was gone? It's only been four days!

He thrust the door to Kurenai-sensei's room open, pushing himself through, Sharingan activated. She was here, he knew, here somewhere…!

He found her a second later, sitting in the back. Her lips pressed against the Sabaku's, her hands tangled in his hair, his inching up her shirt.

He didn't realize he'd even used Katon until he noticed half the room in flames.

The happy couple broke apart almost immediately, and Hinata shot to her feet, sending a flash of chakra to the sprinklers in the ceiling. They opened up, spraying down the room with water, while Gaara sent a wave of slightly soggy sand to quench the other flames. By the time all of the fire was gone, they were all soaking wet.

Sasuke was hardly apologetic. "What the hell, Hinata?" he growled, advancing toward the two of them angrily. His eyes fixed to the Sabaku's, who looked back emotionlessly. His green eyes were chilling. "What were you doing?"

Hinata, who had looked very flustered before, quickly zipped up her jacket and stared him resolutely in the eye. "I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun. Please calm down—is this really a reason to burn down the school?"

He avoided telling her that he felt like burning down all of Konoha at the moment.

"How can I calm down?" He stepped up to Gaara, not even attempting to water down his loathing. He grabbed at the Sabaku's shirt, his hand fisting the fabric. He needed an explanation, right then. There was no way shy little Hinata could actually be interested in a monster like Gaara, right? He must have coerced her in some way, blackmailed her to make her bend to his wicked will.

A few moments too late, the fire alarm went off in their room, and within a second Kurenai-sensei, Kakashi-sensei, and a score of other students had poofed into the room. Hinata blushed as about twenty pairs of eyes widened and twenty jaws dropped. She thought she saw a camera flash—someone had taken a picture with their cell phone, probably chronicling the moment for the school paper or something. Sasuke turned around hastily, not loosening his grip on the still unmoving Gaara's front.

"Oh," Kakashi drawled, his bored tone belying the confusion in his voice. "Looks like we're interrupting something."

Kurenai pressed her lips together and stepped forward, yanking Sasuke's hand away from Gaara. "I'm not going to ask which one of you just tried to set my classroom on fire," she said, staring pointedly at Sasuke, "but I will tell you now, any unofficial fights are not allowed! Do you want to be expelled?"

Sasuke's gaze did not shift away from his nemesis. He smirked. "Well, then. Let's make it official."

There was a collective gasp. Kakashi rubbed at his head. "Erm, Sasuke? You want to take this to the Ring?"

Again, another gasp. The Ring was an enormous circular field, surrounded by bleachers that could seat the entire school and then some. It was seldom used—simple sparring matches didn't take place there. The Ring, indeed, was reserved for the more popularized matches. The official matches.

"Yea," Sasuke hissed, "Yea. I do want to take this to the Ring. Let me kick this bastard's ass for everyone to see."

Kakashi and Kurenai shrugged in unison, and then turned to the proposed opponent. "Well, Gaara? Do you accept this kid's challenge?"

Hinata pushed forward, grabbing Gaara's arm ferociously. "Of course n--!"

"Yes," Gaara said. His brow furrowed as his eyes drilled into the Uchiha's. Sasuke grit his teeth, cracked his knuckles, and finally tore his gaze away.

"All right, then, it's settled," Kakashi said. "This Friday, in the Ring… at one?"

"The sooner the better," Sasuke growled, and then left the room, banging the door behind him. Kakashi watched his student storm off through the window, and then shrugged.

"Man, that kid has a bad attitude," he admitted. He turned to Hinata and Gaara, who looked guilty and out-of-place in their drenched clothes. Gaara's hand slid around to the nape of Hinata's neck, brushing the skin there slowly.

"You two look a mess," Kurenai said. "Go get changed and come back." She looked down at the desk, where their lunch was now a soggy, ruined mess. "Ugh. Actually, go get something to eat, too. Be back in thirty minutes."

Both students nodded and filed out of the room. Gaara's hand found Hinata's and he squeezed it assuringly. Part of him was already regretting accepting the Uchiha's challenge. Sasuke was strong—that much was hard to ignore. Would he be able to hold Shuukaku back if things got too dangerous?

He squeezed her hand again, and she gave him a look of pseudo-annoyance before flashing that wonderful smile.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I trust you."

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A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did! This was a really sweet chapter to write. I hope you don't think they got together too quickly. It's just that, you know, it's about time she made up her mind (This is my 61st page on Microsoft Word. Single spaced. D: ). And, uh, this is a rated M fic. I didn't make it that way to just shower you with fluff. (Insert evil laugh here).

Yes, Sasuke sounds like a jerk in this chapter. But identify with him, please. I think the next chapter, or maybe the one after that, will be the last. Please review! I hate to put quotas on my fics, but I fully expect to reach, like maybe, 95 reviews? If I hit 100 after this chapter I'll post the last two chapters at once. But I'm being unrealistic, right? 18 reviews is a lot. And don't just tell me to "update." I know I have to do that. Make me want to. :P