Gaara looked down at me dumbounded for several moments. I stepped back from him and returned to frantically flipping my arms around and screeching. He slowly seemed to start understanding my excitement as calm enveloped his face while he waited for me to relax. Slowly my actions slowed and I just continued to stare at the undersides of my wrists. "They're...really gone."
Gaara nodded with a smirk. "And you're really here, away from you father. Looks like your life is slowly breaking off from that bastard." I felt a twinge of joy as he said that, realizing he was right. I was losing connection with my father slowly. The scars that had cursed me to be ignored by out shitty police force were gone, I had riskily disobeyed him and disappeared into the house of a redhead who had been training me, and I hadn't given him my winnings. While I had lost my fight, I still received money for fighting and for how well I had hell up against a bitch who spewed flames, they really were winnings. A sudden rush of feeling enveloped my. In a rare procedure that happened to me sometimes, several thoughts rushed through my mind at once. First, that maybe I was safe here where I was staying with a rough and well trained fighter. Second, that maybe things were finally getting better for me. And third, that Gaara was the best thing that had happened to me.
For a second I tried to deny the third thought, but with some relfection I realized it was true. Gaara had, as cliche as it sounded, saved me. He had trained me into a woman with the fighting skills of a proffessional. I had been good before him, and amazing after him. My kicks didn't slightly throw me off balance anymore, I used the pressue of the contanct against the other person to keep myself upright and if I missed I just followed the kick through and mixed in a punch to use the momentum. My punches were fast and sharp, leaving little room for them to be blocked. He had just been there, a presence in my life that gave me the courage to try and get away from my father. Though whenever I seriously thought about it I doubted it, in the back of my mind I felt that he would back me up if I was in a corner. And most importantly, he had taken the risk with me no one else had, he had shoved his way into world and forced me to be honest.
While that scared me, it was also comforting to know that I alone didn't carry the burdens of my past. "Gaara?" I asked cautiously.
He stared at me for a moment before asking, "What?"
"Thank you." He looked completely caught off guard by that, and I almost laughed at the cute, confused expression his face took on. Then, a sobering thought hit me. He had probably never been thanked before. That pulled the goofy grin right off my face as those ever-lingering depressing thoughts tried to invade my mind. First came that I was wrong to follow Gaara and risk his safety. Second was that I was just as my father had always said, a selfish bitch. Third, I needed to get out of there right away. Last and definitly scarriest, if Gaara really was matched with my father in strength as I believed, could he hurt me just as badly? At that thought I took a sudden, rushed step backwards and tripped over what seemed soft enough to be a couch pillow. I hit the floor, but continued to scrambled backwards until my back slammed into the falling apart bookshelf. In the back of my mind I registered the shelves hitting my spine and a sharp pain, but in my panic it didn't mean much.
"Sakura!" Gaara shouted, his eyes flashing with a look of...panic? I didn't even notice why he was so worried when I felt the bookshelf swayed, but I felt the adrenaline kick in when the bookshelf pitched forward and my mind realized I was going to get crushed. I saw a flash of red and then books were pouring down on me like rain, but I didn't feel the shelf hit my head like expected. When the books stopped I was greeted with the sight of Gaara holding up the bookshelf by the top shelf, glaring at me. "Move." He commanded.
With my adrenaline kick gone and no immediate danger seeming possible, I didn't move. I was still scared. "Sakura, move!" At his loud voice I flinched and crawled out from under the bookshelf. He, with a grunt, slowly eased the bookshelf back in place. He then studied it for a moment, seeming to be checking to make sure it would stay, before his gaze turned to me. "What the fuck was that about?" He snarled, suddenly advancing towards me. I tried to scramble backwards again, but only a foot of scrambling led my back to a meeting with the wall. He continued to move in on me until my wrists, held delicately but firmly, were positioned above my head so I couldn't attack him.
I turned my face away from him, squeezing my eyes shut, but his hand was quickly on my chin jerking so I faced him again with closed eyes. "Sakura, open your damn eyes." I knew he was pissed, and that made my thoughts of him turning into my father even stronger.
"I'm scared." I spat out after several moments of silence. His grip loosened at my words, signaling to me he was surprised by my answer. I, with hesitation, opened my eyes to see him staring into my eyes with a hurt expression. I decided to try and explain, quickly realizing how stupid I had been to think Gaara was anything like my father. "I mean, in my mind you're stronger than my father and can-if worst comes to worst-maybe help me with him. But then I started thinking that if you were as strong as him, would you use your strength the same way and I got scared thinking I had moved from one abusive home to another."
His hurt expression only deepened, letting me know I had said the wrong thing. "You put me in the same catagory as that fucking bastard?" His voice wasn't angry anymore, just dry and as hurt as his eyes. I shook my head, trying to blurt some excuse, but he turned away from me and kneeled down in the mass of books and began gathering them up. I scooted forward to help and glanced up at the bookshelf, freezing when I saw its current contents and why Gaara had wanted me out from under it.
Restrained against the back of the bookshelf by thin string were several weapons including a small handgun as well as a large, hunting knife. Then, the hunting knife was suddenly the large kitchen knife that haunted my nightmares and rested in the back of my mind. With a small, pathetic whimper I stared at it, images of myself hanging like my mother and Gaara holding the steak knife like my father. That image was enough to resurface the panic I thought had been banished by Gaara's hurt expression. I closed my eyes, feeling as helpless as ever to the torture my mind caused me.
I had always strongly believed in the idea that you were your own worst enemy. "Gaara." I called through my frenzy of fear. He turned to me with a frustrated expression, but it dropped into something I didn't recognize on him as soon as he laid eyes on me. "Gaara, I'm really sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean to make you out like him. I just can't ever let him go." He gently set down the books in his hand. "He will never go away, always lingering in the back of my thoughts if he isn't already front and center. I just want it all to go away." I knew I was getting hysterical, but I didn't care. I wanted everything to get better. It wasn't fair that nothing in my life was okay.
Gaara slowly moved to my side, softly placing his arm around my shoulders. I slumped against him, realizing I was crying when I saw the small wet spots on his t-shirt. I hated it. I hated that Gaara always saw the worst of me and it never seemed to bother him, while it immensly frustrated me. At that moment, my head on Gaara's shoulder and my arms wrapped around myself, I realized I didn't deserve any of it. I didn't deserve the training, hospitality, or comfort. That was my last thought before exhaustion's clutches got a hold on me and I went under the spell of sleep.
Gaara POV
Had she really just thanked me? Why? I was jerked from my thoughts when I heard something hit the bookshelf. I looked up to see Sakura pressing herself into the wobbling bookshelf. "Sakura!" I shouted, concerned that the bookshelf's contents would spill down on her.
I jumped forward, bracing my hands on the bookshelf to stop it from falling over on her. As the books from the shelf poured down on her, I could only hope those were the only things falling on her. When the last book had slipped from its place on the shelf and tumbled to the floor, I felt relief to see that my concealed weapons were still in place. I then told her, "Move." When she remained frozen in place I spoke to her in a louder voice, the worry of my weapons falling returning. "Sakura, move!"
"What the fuck was that about?" I asked, my words coming out harsher than I'd meant them to. I moved towards her, meaning to check for injuries, when she stared scrambling away from me until she hit the wall where I firmly grasped her wrists in one hand and pulled them above her head. She turned her face away from me but I used my available hand to pull her chin around so we were face to face again. "Sakura, open your damn eyes!"
"I'm scared!" She spat, stunning me momentarily before a dull ache filled my chest. Did she really think I'd hurt her? She slowly opened her eyes and what I felt must have been obvious because she starting spewing an excuse. "I mean, in my mind you're stronger than my father and can-if worst comes to worst-maybe help me with him. But then I started thinking that if you were as strong as him, would you use your strength the same way and I got scared thinking I had moved from one abusive home to another."
That was probably the worst thing she could have said. The aching in my chest worsened and I growled, "You put me in the same fucking catagory as that bastard?" I turned away from her and moved to start collecting the spilled books. I was raving in my head how I was nothing like Sakura's father when I heard her whimper my name. I looked back at her to find looking scared out of her wits and my heart dropped. I don't know why it hurt me so much to see her upset, but it did.
"Gaara, I'm really sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean to make you out like him. I just can't ever let him go." I gently set down the books in my hands. "He will never go away, always lingering in the back of my thoughts if he isn't already front and center. I just want it all to go away." Tears were gliding down her cheeks by the time she finished speaking and I slowly, as not to scare her, moved to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her body leaned against me as her eyelids flickered before sliding shut.
At that moment, I knew one thing. I wanted to her kill her father.
