"The people in this village get the same kind of fever as a common illness, like Suna's own version of a cold," Kankuro reassured her with a smile when he saw how panicked she was. "It could be a whole lot worse. Sabiki-san's tea is helping. He should be fine by tomorrow. Don't worry, Kitamura-san."
But she did worry. She fretted over him, making sure she was keeping his temperature down as much as she could. It took her nearly the whole day to realize something: she was worried that she was going to lose someone precious again.
When did he become my 'someone precious'? He's precious to the village, not…not to me…
That was a lie.
She fell asleep kneeling by the bed with her arms folded beneath her head.
Gaara awoke with something soft brushing his fingers. He groaned slightly as he stirred from his deep sleep, but other than a headache, he felt fine. His gaze traveling down, he realized what the soft thing was against his hand—Emi's hair. She was asleep, slumped at an awkward looking angle, with her head resting on the edge of the bed. Her hair was splayed out over his fingertips. He touched the soft strands gently.
When did Kitamura get here?
He dimly remembered her delivering tea, but his memory from that point on was a blur. She must have stayed…
Jarred by his movement, the young girl opened her eyes sleepily. "Gaara…?" she murmured, voice quiet and drowsy. She turned her face to him, eyes closing again momentarily, and his outstretched fingers brushed against her cheek accidentally. Then suddenly, her eyes flew open. "You're awake."
"Yes," he answered.
"Thank Kami," she muttered under her breath before she could stop herself, half hoping he didn't catch it. He did. "How are you feeling?" She stood up, reaching for a small bowl on his bedside table. As she reached over, she placed the back of her other hand on his forehead. "You don't feel warm anymore. Here, drink the rest of this just to be safe."
"You're ordering me around," he observed candidly.
"I'm just taking care of you!"
"And I'm simply trying to figure out your personality. There is no need to get defensive, Kitamura." He sat up in bed, drinking the last of the tea and only now noticing its bitter taste. He quite liked it.
She sat down on the corner of the bed, watching him carefully. "What have you figured out so far?"
He met her eyes. "For starters, Emi Kitamura does not make direct eye contact."
"I made eye contact with you on the day we met."
"Yes, and you expect me to believe that you are always one-hundred percent flawlessly in character at all times?" Gaara shook his head. "Is there any more tea?"
"I think you should eat something instead," she said, standing up. "I'll go get you something."
"You're not curious as to what else I've figured out?"
Her smile turned mischievous. "Our positions have switched, Gaara. Now you are the weakened one who cannot get away from me. You can answer when I return."
She returned soon after with an armful of groceries, which Gaara eyed warily from the bed.
"I was under the impression you were going out to get something to eat."
Emi rolled her eyes. "In case you didn't notice, this is food. Can you move to the kitchen? We can talk there while I cook."
He followed her into the kitchen, frowning at her back. She seemed to notice and said, "Yes, that's right, I know how to cook. Contain your amazement please. I had to learn when I was younger. Kaito knew how to take care of me, but living on instant ramen and barbecue from a restaurant down the street was not ideal. Not to mention Sabiki has been teaching me to cook." She looked over her shoulder as he settled into a kitchen chair. "Don't think for a single second that I'm domesticated. I would make a terrible wife."
"This wasn't necessary."
"I saw what was in your fridge. A container of salted tongue and milk. Is that all you eat?" She unpacked the groceries and added, "Are you going to finish telling me what you've figured out?"
He observed her as she began cooking for him. "You're sarcastic."
"Obviously."
"You prefer to be alone and dislike large crowds of people, but you've been able to make bonds in the past," he said, beginning to list. "The events in Kirigakure affected you more than you like to let on, and I'm willing to bet that that's the only thing you've cried over aside from maybe your parents' death. You're a strong individual. You like to act cold and collected, but you tend to ramble when you are upset or at a loss. You don't trust easily. You're stubborn."
"Intolerably so," she replied merrily.
"You're loyal and protective, and I'm sure that your talents as a kunoichi would be best utilized in a position as a bodyguard. Unlike the character you've created in Emi Kitamura, you have no real respect for authority anymore and care not for formal honorifics, even to a village elder. You refer to me using my given name." Which I quite enjoy.
She nodded, smiling. "Chieri Isoya sounds like a bitch."
"She sounds as insufferable as Temari can be sometimes," Gaara mumbled. Are all women like that?
"And Emi Kitamura? Your opinion of her is…?"
"She's annoying and frustrating. Actually, no matter which girl you pretend to be, you're frustrating."
"That sounds about right." She stirred something in a pot. "How did you know I was lying, when you first met me?"
Gaara's face betrayed no particular emotion. "Your eyes."
Emi glanced at him sideways, observing him carefully. Does he remember what he did the other night?
"I want you."
Tingles ran up her spine. Her mind wandered, and before she knew it, she had burned her hand. "Ow! Damn!"
She ran it under cold water in the sink, but she could tell already it was a bad burn. Damn it, Gaara. After all, it was his fault. She was only ever distracted when she thought of him!
"Are you alright, Kitamura?"
"I'm fine, I just burned myself." He was by her side in an instant, and when she saw him she bristled immediately. "Go sit down! You're still recovering from a fever, don't exert yourself—" Her sentence was interrupted as he took her hand, peering closely at the blistering skin. "What are you…"
"I have some balm that can help that." He left the room, returning with a small jar.
"Gaara, really, I'm fine…"
He smeared the balm over her burn, bandaging it with a small roll he had also retrieved from his room. When it was finished, however, he did not let go. His thumb lightly stroked the bandaged hand, but when he realized what he was doing he dropped it quickly.
"Gaara," she said. "About what you…said to me the other night…"
He looked surprised, black-lined eyes going wide. "If I said anything inappropriate while you were here, Kitamura, I apologize, but I can't remember. What had I said?"
He doesn't remember. Emi shook her head, stepping away from him. "Nothing. It doesn't matter." She faced the stove once more, stirring the pot's contents. "I'm making gizzard soup. I stopped by to inform Kankuro that you were awake, but he said he'd come see you later and alerted me to the fact that there are few foods you like, and that if I wanted you to eat, I should serve you gizzard and salted tongue. I assume those are your favorites? Seeing as you have been living on nothing but salted tongue, however…"
"Very thoughtful, Kitamura. Thank you."
She nearly froze up again. This was the first time he had said thank you to her, the first time he had actually been honestly pleasant with her. She felt heat creep up her neck but tried to calm down, determined not to blush.
She's lying again, thought Gaara, staring at the back that was turned to him. I must have said something. I just hope it wasn't too highly inappropriate…
Gaara stared at the chunks in his soup that most certainly were not pieces of gizzard.
Emi sat opposite him at the table, her gaze narrowing with each passing second as he stared instead of ate. "For Kami's sake, Gaara, they're vegetables."
He poked at them with an apprehensive face.
"You don't eat many vegetables, do you? It's a wonder you're not sick more often…"
She watched him while he made a face and ate. She was looking at the love kanji on his forehead, at his green eyes, at his chiseled features and cut abs…He was still shirtless. She remembered the feel of his body against hers. She remembered his actions as he touched her until she reached her orgasm. He was forceful and strange and stubborn and agitating and…And I actually really like him.
Shit.
"You seem to be…warming up to me," she said.
"I could say the same about you."
"That's because you're not being an ass to me anymore. How's the soup?"
"Very good. Thank you."
The second thank you in an hour. New record. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence. He sat back once he finished the soup, and then they simply stared at each other, each waiting for the other to break the silence.
"Why do you stare at me?" asked Gaara.
"Why do you stare at me?"
"I'm trying to figure you out."
"No," she said, leaning on her arm. "You already figured me out. I've told you everything, you have my personality nearly down to a T. If that was it, you would have lost interest in me. Instead, you…got jealous."
"What about you? Why do you stare?" He didn't look away from her amber eyes.
"Because I…" I'm attracted to you. "Nothing."
"You're hiding something again."
"No, I'm…"
"When will you ever learn to stop lying to me, Emi?"
She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair backwards and began to head for the door. Gaara stared after her, confused.
What did I…?
"I should go," she said.
"No."
"Yes." She turned the doorknob.
"What did I do?"
"You…You called me Emi."
I did.
"What does that mean, Gaara?"
He stood up. "It means you are no longer Kitamura to me. Why are you so upset by that? Did I do something inappropriate yesterday?" he asked again.
"The day before," she all but whispered. "When your fever first started. You…tried to have sex with me. You said you wanted me. I knew it was just the fever and you didn't remember—"
"That doesn't mean it was a lie," he said in surprise.
"Wha—" She was cut off as he appeared behind her once again and placed his hand over hers to close the door. Hesitating just a moment, he thought about flipping the lock. That would just freak her out.
"I want to remember. Help me remember. Then I will be able to tell you if I was truthful or not."
She turned around to face him, performing the necessary hand signs. "Time Reversal Jutsu."
She waited, watching his face, and suddenly as the jutsu ended he bent his head until his face rested beside hers.
So that is what I said, he thought. It took a fever to bring that out of me.
"I do want you," he said, inhaling the scent of her hair. "I want to touch you, feel you. I don't want any man looking at you. Is it so wrong to be attracted to you?"
"I'm nothing special. I'm not the prettiest or the smartest, and you're the Kazekage. Won't everyone be expecting you to go for the best in your village?"
"You made yourself special. You don't have to be the prettiest or the smartest. You intrigue me, and that's enough."
She scrutinizing to see if he was telling the truth. "Then kiss me."
He stared at her. "I've never kissed a girl before."
"Now's as good a time to start as ever. If you want me to believe you, kiss me."
"Why would I lie?"
"I don't know. Kissing is a more emotionally involved action than sex. Kissing means you care in some way. So kiss me."
"Are you prepared for the consequences should I be unable to stop?" he asked, voice gravelly.
She shuddered the way he knew she would in reaction to his voice. "Yes."
He chuckled lightly, fingers again softly touching her hair. "You don't have any weaknesses, do you? Torture doesn't scare you, death doesn't scare you, rape doesn't scare you…"
"Rape scares me," she corrected. "You don't scare me."
His mouth hovered above hers, unsure of what to do, but she waited patiently. She wanted him to kiss her first.
"Go with your instincts," she added helpfully. "Have they ever failed you before?"
No. He kissed her.
A/N: i seem to have hit a temporary snag in the writing of this haha. i will get another chapter out as soon as i can, but this is something to tide you over and as a reward for getting four reviews in less than twelve hours, which is by the way a new record. :D thanks everyone! keep on reviewing!