The streets were empty and quiet. The darkness of the night had deserted the still city. A cold, haunting ambiance roamed lonely alleys the full moon couldn't reach, echoing the distant sound of police sirens that seemed unworldly. As if they came from another place and time. Maybe they did.
Gaara walked down a familiar street. He was only a block away from the house he supposed he called home now, whatever that meant. The closer he got, the less keen he was to reach it. The late hour gave him hope that the blonde had called it a night and gone to bed, but it wasn't consolation enough to push away the anger still scorching his insides. He didn't want to go back, but couldn't leave, either. He still had a trial to go to. And business to finish. He had no choice.
As the familiar driveway came to view, Gaara slowed down his already lagging pace. Dragging out the inevitable seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Perhaps it gave him a pinch of comfort, or alternatively, a chance to change his mind about facing his responsibilities.
Only when the frustration growing step by step came to a halt did Gaara realize he'd stopped walking altogether. A grunt escaped his pale lips. He shut his eyes, drew in a deep breath and took a moment to gather his determination to overcome mental obstacles. His stubborn nature failed him. As most everything did, these days.
He lit up a cigarette. He took a long drag, turned his gaze towards the dark night sky and let the smoke slowly slip from between his lips. He watched the stars, the stars watched him back. The lights of the city outshone most of them, but a handful of uniquely bright ones remained. One in particular. Positioned almost exactly in the center of the dim sky, just a few million miles towards east. It was brighter than the rest of them. It seemed more alive. More vibrant. Obnoxious, even. Reminded him of a certain someone.
Gaara sighed and dropped his watchful gaze. He took another drag. It didn't taste like much anymore, not after the twenty-five he'd had that day, but smoothed the harshest edges off his grim mood. With his empty stare glued to the ground, he continued walking again. The sound of his footsteps bounced off the buildings he passed, disturbing the silence around him. He didn't mind, as long as they were the lone ones. About a hundred feet from the familiar driveway, they no longer were.
He came to halt, downcast gaze rising to find whom the uninvited steps belonged to. A dark figure left the yard he'd hoped to never set foot on again and turned to walk his way. About ten steps into their approach, Gaara finally realized the oddity of anyone at all leaving the blonde's house at such a late hour. Immediately on his guard, he reached for his gun, aimed it at the faceless figure and patiently waited to either recognize them, or find a reason to fire. As they got closer, the streetlights casting a dim shine onto their features, his wait was rewarded with a bit of both. He did think twice before lowering the loaded weapon.
"Trigger-happy cunt's back, huh?" Sasuke sneered, halting before him.
Gaara deemed him unworthy of a scoff. "Want me to be your one-way ticket to the morgue?"
The man chuckled, but said nothing. Already sick of his smug face, Gaara made a move to walk past him. A tight grasp on his arm put an end to the intention, inviting his gun to find a place to rest against the man's temple. Sasuke didn't seem to mind. The smirk tugging on one corner of his lips was a foretaste of the backhanded compliment yet to come.
"You ain't that dumb."
Gaara hated to agree, and didn't forget to shove the man's head with the gun before lowering it. Not bothering to take a step back and look him in the eye, he stood still and waited for Sasuke to spit out whatever it was he wished to waste both of their time on. It turned out to be worth the time even less than he'd expected.
"Don't go back. Just leave. Leave, and never come back."
If his intention had been to amuse the redhead, he succeeded. Or so the dark and dry chuckle claimed.
"Hn. Good one."
Sasuke turned his head to see him. Pulling a scowl, Gaara met the gaze on him. The look alone was enough for him to know he would be given a handful more reasons to see the pasty bastard dead.
"He's delusional", Sasuke stated. "He thinks he needs you."
Gaara's icy glare faltered. He said nothing, but neither was he expected to.
"He's grown attached to you", the other one continued, looking bitter. "But we both know it's a one-way street. You're not a real person. There ain't a fuckin' thing you can give him."
A spike of anger took Gaara by surprise. Reminded of what Naruto had said to him earlier that day, accused that he'd ran out of things to give him, he couldn't tell whom he wished to shoot — the blonde for claiming such or Sasuke for endorsing it. Either way, it pissed him off.
"You don't know shit 'bout me", he snarled, from and intrusive inch away. "This is between me and him. And what happens between us, ain't your fuckin' business."
Sasuke huffed. He didn't feel the least bit fazed by the aggressive attitude, as it were far too defensive to come across intimidating.
"You know I'm right. You have nothin' he needs."
The redhead scoffed. "Rich, comin' from a guy beggin' for favors."
"Our deal's all business. This is personal."
Gaara said nothing, which might've been a symptom of accord, or silencing wrath. Either way, Sasuke abused it.
"Forget the trial. Forget him. Just leave."
The redhead's anger faltered. He realized, maybe Sasuke wasn't as wrong as he wanted to believe. Maybe Naruto had been right. Maybe he had run out of things to give him. The shift in his furious stare seemed to please the other man, yet his bitter look wouldn't budge. He had a tone to match the look.
"I ain't gonna lose him cause of you."
Without another word, Sasuke broke the exchange of stubborn stares and walked away, leaving Gaara to deal with the mess of anger and distress he hadn't been prepared for. He eventually turned to watch the man go, sudden fury overtaking the confusion he failed to decode. In a desperate attempt to take revenge for the uninvited inner turmoil, he raised his gun to aim at the back turned on him. Sasuke knew the intent was there, knew the redhead wished him dead, but didn't take the threat seriously and never turned to look back.
The shot never came.
Naruto stands before a familiar heat. The bright colors blind him, but he doesn't mind. Gasoline fueled fire dances around him, luring a content smile onto his lips. The heat stings, but doesn't agonize. It warms him on the outside, but also on the inside. He can feel his heart beat faster, as adrenaline rushes through him like electricity. His entire being has become a reflection of sick and twisted pleasure. It feels better than ever.
In that moment, nothing is wrong. All is good. All is as it should be.
His contentment cracks as a sudden wave of sadness washes over him. He realizes something is wrong. Something is missing. Someone is missing.
The figure. The figure is missing.
He turns around to look for it. Only darkness meets his eyes. There is nobody there but him. No sound of breathing. No cold touch on him. No presence apart from his own.
Loneliness creeps in. Adrenaline becomes panic and anxiety. Pleasure becomes pain and suffering. Even the screams of terror and death can't sustain his calm. The darkness only grows more so. The heat becomes freezing cold and colors fade into shades of grey.
His legs give out. His lungs fail to function. He is suffocating.
This time he does not burn. This time he does not feel his skin being peeled off by dancing flames. This time, he is cold.
He screams. He screams until his voice dies out.
The taste of blood floods his mouth. It spills from between his lips and runs down his jaw. It stains his face, it stains his hands. It stains his soul.
Once more he tries to scream. He doesn't know if he succeeds. The blood drowns the voice he fights to push out.
The fire is gone. The voices are gone. The colors are no more.
Alone, he freezes, until the blood running through his veins stands still.
Naruto woke up with a start. He might've shouted. He couldn't be sure, as for the first ten seconds all his senses failed their functions. Their failure highlighted the panic forcing him to tremble. His heart seemed determined to exit through his rib cage, his lungs drew in strangled breaths. It'd all become well familiar to him, yet he hadn't grown used to any of it. He doubted he ever would, were the dream to be a lifelong nuisance.
It took a good twenty minutes for him to calm down. And even then, his body twitched in fear of the anxiety returning.
The dog that'd spent it's night sleeping on the floor jumped into bed with him, curled up close to him and rested it's head on his stomach. Naruto returned it's affection with a gentle pat and scratch. Somehow, he found the company comforting. Maybe this was why people wanted dogs.
Continuing to pet the dog, watching the dull wall across the room, he wondered about the unusual nature of his dream. It'd exceeded the previous ones with its oppressive feel and ended in an unusual manner. He'd been cold, freezing cold. Not engulfed by flames and slowly burning to death, only to wake up the instant before reaching the relief. He wondered if the dream had come to mean something, represent something other than wild imagination. If so, what? He dreaded to even guess.
A full hour went by before Naruto dared to leave the bed and face a new day of potential hell. He'd done his best to forget about the dream, but the flashbacks were yet to stop. Only after three cups of strong coffee and an equal amount of cigarettes later did his effort begin to pay off. But instead of feeling calm and composed, he felt restless and anxious.
Gaara wasn't there. He hadn't returned, and Naruto couldn't help but fear he wouldn't, at all. He wanted to think the man wasn't dumb enough to skip the trial, but given his volatile nature, anything was possible. Frankly, the thought caused him immense anxiety. Not only professionally, but personally.
Naruto slumped down in his seat and sighed. The timing for the man's tantrum was the worst possible. Regardless of whether or not Gaara showed up, he had the obligation to be there. He'd have to take the flight tonight, never mind if he liked it or not. The fact that Gaara had promised he'd be there to take responsibility failed to give him comfort. After last night, he doubted the man gave the slightest shit about responsibilities of any kind. It was a worry he decided to push aside for the time being.
A few hours later, Naruto had reread the draft from last night despite lacking all motivation, spent time plastering the bullet holes he was responsible for, packed a bag and booked a flight. A flight for two. Even though there was no two, just him and his pathetic optimism. He supposed that were Gaara to let him down, he'd paid a fair amount of money to fly with disappointment sat next to him.
He spent the next few hours distracting himself with everything from organizing the mess his garage was to working out. Usually he found the pain of pushing himself to the limit a temporary solution to any given issue, but this time, it was no help whatsoever. The tightness in his chest refused to budge, as did the inability to draw in proper breaths. He knew, it wasn't shortage of breath caused by physical strain. He'd grown genuinely worried that the redhead wouldn't show up in time. Or at all.
"Fuck."
He stared at the punching bag hanging from the garage ceiling. It swayed back and forth, taunting him to hit again, which his knuckles protested against. The flight was due to depart in six hours. That gave him five to dwell in stress and anxiety. The thought alone was reason enough to throw another punch with all the anger still left in him. The whole thing came crashing down.
"...Fuck."
Some time later, Naruto had forced himself to take a much needed shower, succeeded in dressing himself in the comfiest, oldest rags he could find. Knowing he'd spend the two hour flight in uncomfortable jeans, the unattractive look was exactly what he needed. He packed up the rest of his stuff and dragged it all to the hallway in advance, where he was greeted by a restless dog and desperate whines. Thing sat in front of the door, crying to be let out.
Naruto sighed. His first thought was to let the animal out to freely roam the backyard, as he felt too tired to bother with an actual walk, but after a quick glance at the time, he changed his mind. He had another four hours before having to leave to the airport. Gaara was still nowhere to be seen, and though heading out to look for him was a ridiculous idea, he felt tempted enough to try. He was well aware that had Gaara decided to go into hiding, Naruto would never find him. But feeling far too restless to simply sit on his ass and wait for an idiot who likely wouldn't show up anyway, he supposed he had nothing to lose by giving it a shot.
Thus he threw on a jacket, stepped into a pair of shoes and headed out the door. He didn't bother with a leash. Thing had learned it's place beside him.
The streets were busy, as expected of a Tuesday afternoon. People were leaving work rushing to get home, every single one convinced their hurry to be more important than anybody else's. As soon as Naruto reached downtown, he realized he'd picked the worst possible time for a walk, let alone a walk with the hidden agenda of finding the inconsiderate prick.
Given that approximately 3.5 million busy citizens had flooded the cramped streets, the odds of him ever finding the redhead had gone from slim to none. He knew that, yet was stupid enough to continue his aimless search in the sea of people. The longer he walked around failing to find the man, the less hopeful he felt and the more anxious he grew to be. Gaara not showing up had turned into less of an option and more of a fact. Even in midst of streets he knew like the back of his hand, he felt lost.
After two hours of wandering around with no real destination in mind, he found a bench to sit on. The lousy posture was a clear sign of ever-growing distress. He was out of breath. Somewhere along the line his walk had turned into a run, for no other reason than helpless panic. The shower he'd taken had lost its purpose long ago.
A shaky breath fell from his lips, hands moving to hold his head. Whatever resentment he might've felt towards the redhead was long gone. All that remained was restless fear.
He had no idea what he'd do if he didn't find the redhead. Were that to happen, the trial would be the least of his worries. Not only was he unsure how he'd adjust back into his misery, but would be left to deal with the hell his life had become all alone. Suddenly, never seeing Gaara again became the worst of his fears. Out of all of them.
Despite his attempts to calm down, his distress merely grew in strength, defying the resistance it faced. Even the dog sitting beside him had grown worried, nudging his leg with its snout every few minutes. He wished he'd had enough interest in anything but his internal purgatory to give it a reassuring pat. He felt so lost, so confused. He had no idea what to do. Could he really just leave to Fuchu without Gaara? The professional part of him knew it was the right thing to do, but the part that'd come to think of Gaara as something more than any other client strongly opposed. Aggressively, even. Then, without warning, that strongly opinionated side of him presented a new possibility to worry about.
What if he wasn't just hiding? What if...he was dead?
In a split second, his worry turned into terror. His already short breath turned into dry sand in his beaten up lungs, heart sinking lower than he'd known to be possible.
The idea of something being wrong hadn't even crossed his mind, and upon arrival, felt like a slap across the face. All the things he'd said, the things he'd done came crashing down, drowning him in a wave of crippling regret. If Gaara was dead, it'd be his fault. No matter how hard he tried to reason that the man's cruel actions against him freed him of all responsibility, he failed to convince himself. To him, no sin Gaara committed outweighed the tragedy his death would be. A blessing to the world, perhaps, but a tragedy to him.
Maybe, just maybe, Gaara had gone back home.
He ran. A decision not made by his head, but heart. He ran and ran, rushed down the crowded streets, shoving aside those the sight of his dog didn't. After a mile his legs wanted to give out, after two he wanted to give up and collapse on the filthy sidewalk. After three he wished to die, but still had one to go. By the time he was only a block away from home, daylight had abandoned him. The sun was long gone, but the sight of another source of light brought him to an abrupt halt.
He stood there, only a few feet away from his house, watching light spill through the cracks of white window blinds. He hadn't left any on. Somebody was inside. Gaara had come back.
Only then did he realize he'd stopped to marvel at the dim kitchen light instead of rushing inside to see if his anxiety had lost its purpose to torment him. He hurried the last few steps between him and the front door, slammed it open and ran inside. Without bothering to kick off his shoes, he stumbled into the kitchen to find someone seated by the table. His heart sank lower than ever.
"Fuck. It's you."
His brash tone of utter frustration and disappointment earned him a long, baffled stare, followed by a thoroughly aghast one.
"Excuse me?"
Sakura sat by the dining table, glaring at him over the island counter separating them. He took note of her insulted tone, but did nothing to acknowledge it. He didn't care. All he did care about was the fact that she wasn't Gaara and all hope he'd had of his relentless panic turning unreasonable vanished. He hadn't come back, and Naruto had no idea where he was and how alive.
"Fuck!"
The loud profanity directed at no one in particular caused his wife to flinch. He disregarded her discomfort, slumped against the door frame and held his heavy head with trembling hands, nails digging into his scalp. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't think, couldn't act, and felt useless for it. Sakura's high-pitched offense did not help his stuck train of thought to start anew.
"I said, excuse me", she hissed, twice as insulted as the instant before.
Naruto tried hard not to hear her, but did, and punished her with an icy glare. He wasn't really angry at her. He was angry at himself, at Gaara, at the world. Unfortunately for her, she was the only one there to suffer for it.
"Shut the fuck up", he grunted. "Ain't got time for your shit."
The look of pure horror that spread across her face, twisting her fair features into something unsightly, was a promise of hell yet to break loose. He saw that and decided not to stay and see it unfold. Instead he left the kitchen, dragged his beaten down body towards the stairs wishing to ascend them without the squeaky voice of his wife following him. After a dayful of bitter disappointment, he should've known better than to rely on such brittle optimism.
"Do not walk away from me", the woman exclaimed, her rushed footsteps scuttling to reach him.
He paused, considered simply ignoring her and continuing his way upstairs, but the rage lifting its heavy head within him decided otherwise. He turned to face her with ice in his eyes. She flinched and froze still. She said nothing, neither did he. Words had lost their worth in the face of the fear his look caused her. Sakura wasn't dumb, she knew better than to approach whatever it were her husband had been possessed by and allowed him to walk away. She stayed to watch him go, body stiff and lungs holding in a breath that prickled like a swarm of needles. Only when he'd disappeared from view did she let the dense air out. Her anger was gone. Only wariness remained.
Naruto slammed shut the bedroom door, picked up the first thing in sight and hurled it across the room. Whatever it was he'd picked up without bothering to check hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent. It wasn't enough. He picked up something else, threw it away with all he got, only to repeat the destructive behavior over and over again, until it no longer felt like anything. Until nothing felt like anything, anymore. Only then did he stop. Only then did he ease into a numbing calm. Not comforting, but eerie. The next hour or so he spent floating in that unworldly eeriness, watching himself from the outside and wishing he would drown in it. He didn't and was eventually forced to face reality again. Reality, and the time it ticked away with.
An hour, until he had to leave. Two, until he'd have to board the flight he now hoped would come crashing down and burn him to ashes.
It took every last drop of strength in him to pull himself off the floor he'd lied on smoking and staring at the ceiling. It took every last drop of sanity to dress himself in clothing other than age old rags. What it was he lost in the process of leaving the room wasn't something he'd known he possessed, and thus failed to name it, but did know he'd miss it at a later date. Compared to what'd locked itself behind the bedroom door, the man who stepped out looked like another person. After thirty painstaking minutes, he'd dressed himself in not only decent clothes, but a new face and eyes, both void of the anger and crippling anxiety from before. Not because they weren't there, but because he'd learned to mask them with a cold front. Learned from the best, he realized, again reminded of Gaara and his absence. His cold front came close to cracking.
He ended up in the hallway, leaning against the kitchen doorway's sturdy frame and avoiding the burning gaze his wife sent him from across the room. She was yet to say anything, but by then Naruto had learned his lesson and didn't believe the bliss of silence would last for all eternity. And it didn't.
"What's wrong with you?"
Her voice, it didn't quiver, but neither was it strong. He took his time, smoking yet another cigarette and staring at the front door with only blink long pauses, but did eventually grunt a reply.
"Not now."
She flinched with anger, he saw it from the corner of his eye. If only for plain entertainment, he lent her the empty look in his eyes. She flinched anew, but not with anger. He smothered a smirk and tore his gaze away to face the door again. It hadn't budged.
C'mon. Open. Just fuckin' open. Just...come back.
It didn't. He didn't. Naruto hadn't felt as alone in his entire life, he came to realize.
"Are you going somewhere?" his wife asked, quiet and cautious. Again, he contemplated on not replying, but in the end, did.
"Yeah."
He didn't have to look to know she'd closed her eyes and bit down on her lip to keep the frustration at bay. Silent, at the very least.
"You're going to Fuchu, aren't you?"
Why she bothered asking, neither one knew. Why he cared to answer was as big of a mystery.
"Hn."
Naruto knew exactly how his vague answers irked the woman, and though immature, found it great fun. She must've been aware of it, but was equally as aware of his volatile mood and knew better to play with fire. He smoldered with something she'd never seen before — not in him, not in anyone — and felt it burn even from a distance.
The long awaited silence finally joined their company, emphasizing the tension, but bringing Naruto a pinch of comfort. He spent the quiet moment gazing at the door, wishing it'd open and let in the only person in the world he currently had any interest in, one hand holding the half-burnt cigarette and the other roaming his pockets in search for a distraction. One came by, feeling cold against his warm skin and tangling between his fingers. He took it out, leaving it to sit on the palm of his hand. The locket Temari had given him.
For a long while he hesitated to open it, but curiosity was quick to tell him otherwise. He clicked it open and greeted the two beautiful women with a smile far duller than theirs. It was the best he could offer. He watched them, gazed at the similarities between them. At first glance, they could've been mistaken for twin sisters. And though a closer look separated them from one another, the smiles spread across their fair features remained identical. Charming, sincere. He wondered if Gaara's smile would've been as heart-stopping, were a genuine one to ever cross his features. The thought motivated him to smile just the smallest bit wider.
"What the hell are you grinning about?" Sakura's voice huffed, interrupting his fleeting moment of calm.
He could've snapped at her, but didn't find her worthy of the attention. Instead he closed the locket with a soft click, put it back into his pocket and let his head fall against the door frame, eyes closing loosely shut.
"Nothing."
She might've replied, might've not. His mind wasn't there to listen even if she did. He was too busy having a change of heart to care about the surrounding world. When Temari had given him the locket, he'd been so sure he'd never pass it on to whom it belonged to. He'd doubted Gaara wanted it. Had grown certain he didn't. But now, standing there dreading he'd never see the man again, he changed his mind. If Gaara did return in time, he'd give it to him. Not right away, perhaps not for a long while to come, but one day. One day he would. But, if he didn't return, he'd keep it himself. That way he'd have exactly two things he could remember him by — the locket and the tag. Without even noticing, he'd tangled the chain between his fingers. He supposed it gave him comfort. A delusional form of it, if nothing else.
His eyes found the clock ticking away on the wall. Fifteen minutes. He grunted and put out the burnt cigarette.
"I gotta leave. Take care of the dog."
There would've been a million better ways to phrase the request, a thousand kinder tones to voice it with, none of which he could bother with. He turned to see the poorly disguised resentment in Sakura's stern gaze, but already knew she'd comply. To not tip off the already unstable atmosphere, he supposed. She never said it out loud. Naruto didn't mind. As a poor sign of appreciation, his harsh stare softened ever so slightly, letting through the despair he'd hid well so far. She noticed it, of course, and couldn't help but sigh.
"Naruto, what's wrong?" she asked anew, almost positive she'd receive no answer. He surprised her with a vague one.
"Everything."
His voice came out tired and distressed. She knew he wasn't lying, knew he honestly believed everything to be wrong. But whether that belief of his was just or deluded, she couldn't tell without asking. Knowing he'd never agree to talk about it, she didn't ask. All she could do was offer him wordless compassion. Naruto found her silent effort to console irksome. It felt like pity. Yet knowing it hadn't been her intention, he didn't scold her for it, but instead gave her a look more neutral than hostile and opened his mouth to endow her something other than a dismissive insult. He would've, hadn't the front door opened and cut his intention short.
Facing away from the door, Naruto froze. Sakura's gaze traveled past him to see the one who'd arrived. The small smile on her lips was an implicit declaration of their identity.
"Oh, hey", she greeted, receiving nothing in return.
Slowly, Naruto turned around. Gaara stood there a mere foot away, watching him with eyes that told nothing. He watched back, not feeling a thing. Nothing but hollow echoes of a heartbeat he supposed wished to fail. Though he hadn't expected the blissful numbness to last very long, the skyhigh wave of rage that came crashing down on him still took him by surprise. It hit him like a sledgehammer, felt like a kick in the teeth. Between it throwing its punch and him clenching his hand into a fist to bring about another one, a wave of relief as harsh as his hatred came in from the other side. In midst of that stormy sea of extreme opposites, he turned into a mess of aimless conflict. As most conflicts, he was blind to rhyme and reason.
His fist possessed no hesitation nor mercy. Its strength stemmed from the darkest corner of his existence and hit the target that'd accepted its fate as one with every last ounce of wrath it fed on. Though Gaara would've never admitted it, he silently declared he'd never been hit as hard in his life. It wasn't the first time he'd declared such. He wondered, would Naruto ever fail to outdo the many punches his face had taken a beating from? Not only those of everyone else's, but his own as well.
"Naruto!"
Sakura's horrified scream went ignored. Naruto's rage ceased for the while it took Gaara to move his forcibly turned head and face him anew. He did so knowing he'd get hit again. He was not only proven right, but came to find that the blonde had, in fact, not yet run out of hits that outshone every previous one. It hurt, much more than he'd ever comfortably admit it did. He'd known to anticipate the pain, but hadn't foreseen the waver in his balance. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the wall and Naruto following after.
For two long, painful minutes, he took hit after another, not once asking him to stop and only opening his mouth to spill out the blood wishing to fill his lungs. He'd hoped to stay resistant to the pain, but eventually, withstanding it no longer was a matter of determination and his legs decided it was time to give up and fail him. Even then, he did nothing to defend himself, didn't put up a fight. He took it like a man, an admittedly stupid one, and endured the wrath he knew had long laid dormant within the blonde. He wanted him to get it all out. Every once in a while, the demon had to be taken for a walk outside.
"Naruto, stop it. Please, please stop it", Sakura begged.
Her voice quivered, for good reason. She stood there a small but safe distance away, watching her husband beat a man who did nothing to defend himself. Whatever violent it was that'd possessed him, he'd lost himself to it, in and out. There was nothing she could do. She had nowhere near the strength needed to restrain the blonde by force and no control over the dog sitting a small distance away watching it happen with worried, but obedient eyes. It was restless, clearly wishing it'd been allowed to interfere, but never did. Not knowing what else to do, she resorted to desperate threats and hoped they'd break through the blonde's dense walls of hatred.
"Stop it! If you don't, I swear I'll call the cops."
In the same instant, even before she'd finished her sentence, he froze still. He did stop beating the other man, but the tense shoulders and clenched fist wouldn't relax. He slowly rose to his feet and turned to face her. She flinched. The look laid on her, it terrified.
In those eyes, not a hint of her husband was left.
For the while Naruto stood still and watched her with a look that felt like cuts on her skin, time ceased to be. Dreading what might follow, she took an unwitting step back. His jaw clenched and she knew, she'd made a mistake. Though she could tell that attempting to make a run for it would be futile, she took another step back. He matched her traveled distance, freezing her still. Petrified, she realized there was nothing she could do to stop him. She had no other option but to shut her eyes, turn around and shield herself the best she could. Knowing he was only a step away anymore, she wondered what kind of impact would follow, what kind of pain would ensue. Regardless of what kind, she knew some would. For that split second, the moment before he reached her, she didn't feel afraid anymore. She'd accepted it.
The pain, it never came. None of it ever came. Instead of hearing herself scream in agony, she heard a low, calm voice speak.
"Enough."
She opened her eyes. A few seconds she dedicated to dread of being struck down after all, before cautiously lowering the arms she'd shielded herself with. She turned around slowly. What she saw was like watching a miracle happen.
Naruto stood a mere step away from her, the way she'd expected he would. But he was still. Held still. Held still by the redhead. Not by force. An arm wrapped around his waist from behind and a loose hold around his throat were enough to keep him restrained. He didn't fight to get free and didn't look like he wanted to, either. He simply stood there, held still by the other man.
No. That wasn't right. Not held still. Just, held. Held by him.
Sakura watched two men standing tall before her, one covered in blood brutally beaten out of him and holding the one in fault for it, the other weak and meek. She watched her infernal husband calm down right before her eyes. But though he seemed perfectly muted, she began to feel unnerved all of a sudden. As if the air had been sucked out of the room, a toxic vapor seeping in to replace it. The open space around them suddenly felt cramped and crowded, as if populated by a hundred people instead of only the three of them. The lights were on, but the room was dark. It was silent, but she could've sworn she heard whispers come from inside the walls. It didn't feel right. She didn't feel safe.
Her gaze shifted from her husband to the one keeping him still. She jumped at what she saw. He looked nothing like before. His usually warm and welcoming presence had turned into something morbid and suffocating. It was then she realized, the taste of toxic air was his true nature oozing out. The hundred other people in the room was the manifestation of his presence. The darkness was his influence on others and the whispers in the walls her own voice telling her to be wary of this man. And she was, as for some reason, she feared the oppression crushing her was only a fraction of what he could force upon others. His gaze felt like rapid-fire of lead, and he wasn't even looking at her. How anybody's presence could feel tangible in such a clear way, she didn't understand.
For that split second, no matter how irrational, she saw him as the definition of power. In the most sickening, morbid manner imaginable.
She couldn't comprehend how Naruto could've found his vicinity a reason to feel calm. Yet he did, visibly so. His body lay weak against the other's chest, eyes looked either tired or glassy, like those of a sedated animal. The man's touch worked like a drug on him. She didn't know how to feel about it. Perhaps she should've just felt grateful the man had stopped him, no matter how wrong it all felt. She watched the hold around the blonde's neck inch higher and tilt his head enough for blue eyes to meet pale green ones. Naruto seemed happy to see them. For just a second, bloodied lips haunted the length of a curved neck. She could see the blonde shiver, but couldn't tell what for.
"Calm down", Gaara told, voice low and patient, close to soothing.
It might've been that to Naruto, but to Sakura it fell far short of comforting. Had the tone flooded from lips somebody else's, it could've been as soothing as Naruto's calm state quietly claimed. But coming from him, the timbre turned haunting and came out like a nursery rhyme gone hellishly wrong.
"Why?" asked the blonde. The hold around his throat tightened, not to hurt, but to act as a demand for obedience.
"Don't ask stupid questions", Gaara grunted, not harsh, but firm. "Cause I say so."
The other one nodded, slowly. "Okay."
Sakura couldn't look away. She couldn't lie, the redhead's authority was as impressive as it were harrowing. A man who'd only just sat on the floor spitting out blood and hinging his jaw back into place suddenly appeared to be the embodiment of absolute dictation. Her husband didn't seem to mind the commands, merely watched the bloodstained man with eyes that failed to focus. Sakura dared to call it a disassociative episode. Nothing else could've explained his dazed submission. The hand holding his jaw moved down his neck, as if rewarding him for his cooperation. A smirk she deemed twisted spread across the redhead's lips. She couldn't decide whether it didn't fit him, or fit him far too well.
"Good", he praised, sounding pleased. "Now, we gotta leave. There's somewhere we gotta be, remember?"
"Yeah", the other one agreed, still gazing at the pale man.
Gaara gave him a content nod. Sakura couldn't help but think there was no real need for him to hold her husband anymore, but wasn't dumb enough to voice her opinion. She sighed in relief when the man shortly let his hold fall away.
"Wait outside. I'll be right there", Gaara assured to the one who'd turned to face him.
Sakura had imagined she couldn't possibly grow any more disturbed, but found herself proven wrong when Naruto moved closer, took a tight hold of the man and reached out to wipe off blood from the pale face. She didn't understand why he bothered even trying, as the abundance of it wasn't something a mere hand could clean off. Given that Naruto seemed largely oblivious to everything around him, it was likely he wasn't even aware of doing it.
"You won't take long, right?" he asked, close to distressed.
His voice sounded strange. He looked strange. He acted strange.
"I won't", Gaara promised. His gaze took an unwitting glance at the blonde's lips. He didn't know if the woman noticed or not.
Naruto flashed a smile as strange as the rest of him. Pleased enough with the promise, he left his spot. Sakura watched him walk away, too wary to address him. Not once between giving the dog a pat goodbye, grabbing his stuff and leaving the house did he look her way. Not a glance, not a word. In a mere minute, he was gone and she left alone with the redhead. She learned that being in his sole company grew more uncomfortable time after time. It took her a good while to muster the courage to face him. She did, eventually, only to wish she hadn't. The twisted look of him was gone, replaced by the smile she now knew was fake. It did not fit the face painted in gruesome shades of red. His voice adopted the same tone she'd learned to know, but after the notes of darkness, it'd lost its charm.
"Do excuse your husband. He's going through a rough time."
He received no answer. Neither had he expected one. He moved to wash his face by the kitchen sink. Sakura silently watched the stream of clear water mix with the deep red of blood, slowly going down the drain. It was mesmerizing, in its own right. But made her sick all the same. Once he turned off the water and turned to face her anew, she found herself taken by surprise. The many cuts and bruises she'd expected to be unveiled from beneath the gore wasn't there. It was unsettling. Apart from a cut on his lip, he looked every bit as flawless as ever. As if he'd never been beaten into a bloody mess at all. As if he'd somehow grown resistant to violence. She wondered, was that even possible?
He used the helm of his shirt to dry his face, before flashing the woman another off-putting smile.
"Are you scared?"
The question bewildered her. Why did he bother asking, when they both knew he could've smelled her fear from a mile away? She didn't know what to say or even what to feel, for she felt so much. The many mixed emotions numbed her. She wanted to scream and shout, wanted to curse her husband to the lowest pits of hell. She wanted to cry and break things. She was incredibly angry and disappointed, yet somehow, just as scared and weak at the same time. She couldn't bring herself to express her feelings. Not when the unnerving man was there with her. Though his faked charm was as convincing as ever before, his oppressing presence hadn't budged. It sucked out not only all air, but her will to live, let alone fight. She had never, not in her entire life, felt as depressed for no real reason.
"My husband tried to hit me. Of course I am", she finally pushed herself to say.
Sakura wasn't sure if it was for the weak sound of her voice, or just for the love of it, but the man's kind smile twitched towards a mocking one.
"How are you so sure?" he asked, confusing the woman. She didn't understand.
"What do you mean? Wasn't it obvious?" she huffed, in fact offended.
Gaara said nothing, only cocked his head in a curious manner. He took a step closer, she took a step back. It seemed to amuse him. He never answered her question.
"He's a tough one to handle. Not many can. Can you?"
Sakura frowned, confused and insulted. She didn't understand the man's question, didn't see the motive behind it. Naruto was her husband. She knew him inside out, though did admit she'd somewhat began to doubt the veracity of it. But even then, she didn't appreciate the subtle implication that he would've known better. As if he knew him better than her. Not knowing how to respond, she said the only thing that came to mind.
"Who are you?"
Gaara must admit, it was a valid question. Somehow it amused him she'd never know the true answer, every bit as much as he was tempted to tell her. Tell her everything. Everything. Just to see her reaction, if nothing else. He finally let his usual smirk take over the tiring smile. It always made his face hurt.
"I'm everything and nothing you think I am."
She didn't know how to interpret his answer, but knew it couldn't have meant anything good. She flinched as he took a step closer, closed her eyes tightly shut when she felt a cold touch brush her hair behind her ear and shivered with dread at the feel of it. She decided not to witness him speak again. The sound of him was enough of a match to the look of him.
"Don't worry about him."
She forced herself to open her eyes and face him, no matter how badly she wished not to. His expression grew from unpredictable to malicious.
"I'll take good care of him."
There were many ways his words could've been interpreted as, hadn't his tone made it extraordinarily clear. Though she couldn't tell exactly what he meant, she knew it was meant to mock her, one way or another. She never got the chance to reply, even if she'd eventually rediscovered her ability to speak. By then, he was gone.
Naruto paced around restlessly, twitching with some kind of anticipation. His mind was yet to revive its sense, only he wasn't aware of it being gone in the first place. He balanced there on the thin line between sanity and lunacy, waiting for his loneliness to meet its end. Gaara was taking too long. He needed him to be there with him.
What in his world felt like an eternity had been only five short minutes in real time. Just a little shy of the sixth the door of the house finally opened and closed. Instead of rushing to meet him behind the corner, he waited for the redhead to reach him and stop a small distance away. The man said nothing, neither did he. Disregarding the concept of neighbors' potential curiosity, he reached out to hold him by the neck and closed the small distance between them. He wasn't rejected, but neither was he welcomed. The response landed somewhere between cold and freezing. It made him a pathetic kind of desperate, to which Gaara replied with common sense.
"You'll regret this the second you snap outta your crazy."
Naruto shook his head, pulling the man as close as he could.
"I won't. Forget everythin' I said. Just don't reject me."
"You will", the redhead argued, gaze fixing on the ground. "You always do."
He didn't sound bitter per se, just annoyed. Naruto realized there was no point in begging for his attention with words and empty promises. His hands abandoned their hold on the other's neck to clutch the front of his jacket instead. The man's reluctance was no obstacle to his determination to eventually get his way.
"I thought you'd died", he muttered, pressing his face against the neck he'd let go of. Had Gaara claimed it wasn't a persuasive move, he would've been one lie worse than before.
"Yeah?" he asked, not knowing what else to say. The head hidden beneath his jaw nodded.
"Yeah. I thought they took you from me."
Gaara shut his eyes and cringed in silence. He might've had only one weakness, but sure as hell hoped he'd had none. In his defense, it was really hard not to touch things as pretty as the blonde, especially when offered to.
"They didn't. Just needed to clear my head."
"I know." The face nuzzling his neck met his anew. "Still, I'm fuckin' mad at you."
The smirk happened on its own, as did the glance down at lips that just wouldn't give up.
"Why?" he asked, cursing himself for inching closer. Judging by the twitch of a smile, it pleased the other one.
"Cause I ain't done with you yet", he was told.
This time, he didn't turn down the smirk looking for his. "How you ain't?"
"Any way you want."
Fuck you, thought the redhead, irked by the man's skill to pull at the only string attached to him hidden among a million loose ones. How Naruto never failed to find it, he was yet to understand. Time after time he was just as shameless to hold on to it, tug at it to get whatever it was he wanted. And like a dog on a leash, Gaara let him. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget the things he'd been told and the steadfast decisions he'd made and returned the kisses begging to be acknowledged. He let his hands wander wherever they wished, let his lungs draw in breaths as heavy or hasty as they deemed necessary. The taste of defeat was beginning to turn into that of reconciliation, when the blonde paused to speak rushed words.
"You can't die. You can't leave me. I need you."
Gaara halted, altogether. His insides turned at the memory of last night, at the thought of what Sasuke had told him. It was then he remembered why he'd decided to put an end to it all in the first place, and no matter how challenging it were, he forced himself to remake the decision.
"No, you don't", he grunted, laying an almost bitter look on the blonde. "I've ran out of things to give you, remember?"
Naruto clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, silently damning himself for saying anything at all. The next time he opened them, the touch on him was gone and Gaara walking away. For a moment, he stayed put and stared at the dark sky, cursing god for wasting his almighty power on cockblocking him, and him specifically. Sighing, he dropped his stare back to ground-level, grabbed his bag and went after the redhead. Gaara was aware of the steps behind him, but couldn't bother slowing down to make their job of reaching him easier. Not only because he wanted to avoid the discussion he knew Naruto would force him into, but because he wouldn't be able to see it through without bringing up the subject he wished to postpone for as long as he could.
The subject of him leaving. For good.