Carefully, Shikamaru climbed through the window in the kitchen, letting no sound escape as he signaled the others. They were getting impatient; standing in the freezing rain at four in the morning did that to people.

The Konoha teenagers had planned this for weeks. It was the first day of summer vacation, and they would kidnap the siblings for a week of fun at the water park in Suna.

Nara unlocked the back door, letting in his friends. The entire group was there except Lee and Sasuke; Lee because he said he had to train extra in preparation for fun, Sasuke because he claimed that what they were doing was juvenile (never mind that he was planning to meet them there).

Only three people, Shika, Sakura and Tenten were coming in the house to wake them. They all quietly walked into the Sabakus' living room, tiptoeing with glee. The quietest of the enthusiastic volunteers, they walked into the hallway, each picking one of the closed doors.

The Sand Sibs were about to be kidnapped for a week of excitement.

The door the Weapons Mistress stood in front of was covered in band posters and painted a violent shade of purple.

Kankuro's room, she thought, inwardly sweatdropping.

Did I have to get him? Neji will go crazy when he hears, even if it will be fun to scare the shit out of Kankuro.

She turned the handle silently and slipped into the bedroom, shutting it silently behind her.

Kankuro, the tallest kid in school, had the same wiry muscle as his redheaded brother and the same effortless strength. They seemed to be completely at ease with their surroundings, knowing that they were stronger than most of the student body.

Temari, their older sister, was the only one capable of beating them up, and she did it on a regular basis. Tenten admired her for that.

Her chestnut hair pinned into two buns as usual, she padded barefoot past a closet door and a dresser, the drawers sticking out haphazardly.

He's so cute, she thought with a sigh, and I can't help but wonder what kind of kisser he is. Would Neji be mad? He has this 'older brother protection' thing going on towards me, so you never know...

The brown haired, tattooed boy slept like the dead in a hammock hung from the ceiling, supported by chains. He was sprawled out, blankets askew and hair ruffled. He was also snoring slightly. She thought he looked adorable, relaxed as he was.

Plus he plays sports.

Tenten grinned at his teddy bear demeanor, and reached out a hand towards Kankuro.

Shika watched Tenten's door close, then looked at his own door. Painted golden and brown, the color of sand, with a purple fan hanging off the doorknob, he assumed it was Temari's.

Troublesome, he thought with a sigh.

Shika went in, making sure to step near the furniture. He first took in the posters on the walls, then the plush, coffee carpet underfoot which made his job easier. He padded over to where she slept, curled up on a couch under the window.

She wore a purple tank top and slept under a fluffy white comforter. She looked quiet in sleep, breathing slowly in and out.

The shadows under her eyes were bruise–like, making his task all the harder; he felt guilty for waking her so early when she clearly needed the sleep.

Fingers hovered silently over her arm to rest on her shoulder, shaking her lightly. She opened her eyes blearily, still half asleep, and he pressed a finger to his lips.

She smiled through sleep veiled eyes, and he felt something in him drop away.

God she looks so... troublesome.

And she did look troublesome – especially when she reached her hand over to cover his. Her silky blonde hair was mussed, and he fought the urge to run his fingers through it.

Instead, he gripped her hand slightly and she gripped his back, with a smile that was none too friendly.

Suddenly she forced his fingers backwards until they both felt the knuckles pop, and he cursed in pain, stepping away as fast as he could.

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and pulling off her blankets, in a fighting stance instantly. Then she saw who it was.

"Shikamaru? What the hell are you doing in here?"

She noticed the way he was holding his injured fingers and swearing.

"Oh my god, you idiot, I am so sorry..."

Temari climbed out of bed to help him, and he tried not to notice that she'd gone to sleep in her underwear. Her cool fingers soothed the aching digits as she pushed them back into place. He winced with each click, the pain slowly receding.

Finally, he straightened up with a sigh.

"Thank you. Where did you learn to do that? Do you do that to everyone who tries to wake you?"

The blonde girl snorted with a grin, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just be glad that it wasn't Gaara you were waking."

Shika arched an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

She just looked at him, a small, evil smile on her lips. "Gaara sleeps with a gun under his pillow."

Shika's head had turned only a fraction of a degree when there was a shriek from next door.

Temari's green eyes opened wide. "Don't tell me–" she breathed, wrenching open her door.

Shika forced his legs to move. "Sakura went."

The hall was quiet.

For a moment they just looked at each other, neither saying a word.

Gaara's burgundy door slammed open and they saw Sakura, pressed up against the doorframe. She was visibly shaking. She was the one who had thrown open the door.

In her green eyes, the world was a silent film, tiny movements shivering through her entire body. She couldn't stop the terror that was welling up inside of her, or the need to get away from that man, and his overwhelming bloodlust.

JUST LIKE DAD'S...

Shika put a hand on her shoulder and she flinched away, her eyes finally straying from the teenager in the scarlet room.

Gaara stood in front of his bed, dressed only in some slacks and boxers, a semiautomatic in his left hand. The gun wasn't pointing at Sakura anymore. Its barrel faced the floor as he stared at her frightened expression.

His gaze was sad and unwavering. Slowly, he tried to take a step forward, but she shoved away from the wall and sprinted for her life.

Temari swore.

Shikamaru and Naruto were after Sakura in a shot, but she was faster, racing through the back door and hopping the fence; the hours put into track team paid off in a way she never expected. By the time they reached the backyard, she was a block away, sobs hitching in her throat.

And still, Gaara just stood there, his blank face a mask that hid the pain and confusion beneath it. He'd aimed a gun at people before. He'd fired it too, without a second thought.

He felt horrible, those jade irises, accusing him of what he knew to be true.

Fuck, I'm such a monster!

He let the gun drop to the floor.

It was like Yashamaru looking at me.

Sakura's feet pounded the pavement and she tore through the wet streets like they were nothing, never forgetting the look of malice that had adorned Gaara's face as he pointed the gun towards her.

Sweat dripped down her face, but she ignored it; it mingled with the rain quickly enough. She ran as though she would never stop, long legs carrying her over asphalt and grass alike.

Before she knew what was happening, she was in an unfamiliar part of town.

She shivered, her body shaking from fear and cold, her mind still numb with emotion.

Sakura didn't know what to do.

Reaching a major street, she stopped and sat down next to a bus stop, sobbing uncontrollably. Her back rested against the cold plastic, the real-estate ad dulled by the rain.

She couldn't let herself cry.

Her arms clutched her torso in a feeble attempt to stop the panic that flooded Sakura's every sense. She knew she was breathing much too fast, and hyperventilation wouldn't help her now. But she didn't care.

Those pale blue eyes, staring at her, uncaring and cold.

What happened to him? she wondered. And how much more did I damage him by what I just did?

She raised her hands to her face and shut her eyes, raindrops streaming between her fingers. It had been the most horrible thing that had ever happened to her.

In his room, she had barely touched his shoulder when he had pulled his hand from under the pillow. Immediately she'd backed off, still not understanding why there was such killing intent in his expression. Then she'd noticed the silver gleam of metal and screamed.

Inner Sakura snorted. HE SLEEPS WITH A GUN? WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

Sakura felt horrible, those cerulean irises, accusing her of what she knew to be true.

God, I'm such a monster!

Her whole body racked with the force of her sobs.

It was like Haruto aiming the gun at me.