35 – To Sleep
For the first time in years, Ryoka slept.
She couldn't pinpoint exactly why, only that she had been on the roof as usual, and had found that the events of the day had mentally exhausted her to the point where meditation simply wasn't enough. So, leaning against the wall as she always had, with Gaara's words echoing hauntingly in her mind, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier until she drifted off to sleep.
You are my important person.
Silent as night, a figure crept across the roof, having waited weeks for this opportunity. Her eyes darted nervously from side to side, but there was no sign of the sand monster that had nearly skewered her alive last time.
She approached the Nanabi's jinchuriki and a wicked smile touched the corners of her mouth. A razor sharp kunai slipped noiselessly into her palm and glinted briefly in the moonlight. She stood over Ryoka's steadily breathing form with a sense of finality, and raised her arm soundlessly, about to plunge the edge into the sleeping girl's back.
Three things then happened all at once.
Saki's arm came rushing down, Ryoka's eyes opened, and a wall of savagely writhing sand slammed her into the reinforced stone wall with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs and nearly cracked several of her ribs.
"Saki," the whisper left Ryoka's lips in a quiet breath, as if in relief, and the dark haired girl stood. In the dim moonlight, Saki could make out a sheen of sweat on the jinchuriki's forehead, and the pale tremor of her bloodless lips. Whatever sleep she had gotten, it was apparent that it had not been peaceful.
Gaara emerged soon after, seemingly appearing from nowhere as his sand delivered him to the roof.
His expression was calm, but his pale green eyes were smoldering with suppressed rage.
Ryoka stepped forward, about to get in between the two, but he shifted his sharp glare to her and she found herself unable to intervene.
He looked back at Saki, approaching her until he was directly in front of the brunette, eye to eye.
She seemed to shrink under her stare.
"Perhaps you misunderstood." Gaara's words were calm, and Ryoka felt herself relax. Gaara was angry, yes, but not uncontrollably. She didn't have to worry about Shukaku.
Saki's teeth clenched, but an unmistakable flash of fear flickered in her eyes.
"This woman is not yours to damage." Ryoka blinked, and Saki struggled futilely against the sand. Gaara continued, his voice still terrifyingly quiet. "You were warned once, not to return."
"So what?" Saki hissed. "She belongs to you?"
"Do not speak," he ordered sharply, and her mouth clamped together, fear riveting her in place.
"Sunagakure currently has no Kazekage; therefore it is impossible for you to legally be banished from this country. However," Gaara's eyes narrowed. "Rest assured that there will be one soon. And regardless of the presence of a leader, should you try to harm my important person a third time, you will not leave this village alive."
Saki's face drained of color. She moved her gaze past Gaara, regaining her composure and glaring fiercely at Ryoka.
"Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to let your dog do all the talking for you? Hide behind the monster of the Sand?"
Ryoka just watched Saki, her expression calm but her emotions warring against one another internally.
"You should be careful what you call someone with a weapon at your throat," she suggested softly. She turned her gaze away from the kunoichi. "You're a disgrace to our village, Saki."
Saki's eyes bulged in fury, and a growl rumbled in her throat.
"Me?" she hissed.
Ryoka turned her back to the girl, eyes shadowed.
"Let her go."
Gaara did so, and Saki collapsed to her knees, breathing heavily. She glared at Ryoka's back, her eyes burning with hatred. Under Gaara's watchful gaze, however, she could do nothing but bite her tongue, and slowly she backed away, glaring back and forth between Ryoka and Gaara.
"Just wait," she hissed, her eyes flashing. "A storm is coming for demons like you. Both of you are going to die." She grinned wickedly, and a flash of insanity flickered briefly in her eyes. "Wait and see who has the last laugh."
She turned and fled, and Gaara turned to Ryoka, watching as she shakily sat back down, and leaned her head back against the wall, taking several deep breaths to calm herself. Her gaze moved to the moon listlessly, and she felt more tired than she had before she had allowed exhaustion to force her into sleep. Years of meditation had not eased the relentless nightmares that savagely tormented her mind.
"That woman irritates me."
Gaara's words made her lips twitch, and after a moment, a quiet laugh escaped her lips.
"Some people always will," she answered lightly, and he moved to sit next to her, resting an arm against his knee.
"Why does she hold such animosity toward you?" he asked after a moment of silence.
She looked down at her hands shyly, a dark blush of shame coloring her cheeks.
"My village was attacked," she fumbled with her hands slightly, feeling them grow colder as her agitation increased. "I asked my team to take my little sister to the border, and they were cornered."
She stared at her hands, feeling the hole in her chest prickle painfully. "I thought both of them had been killed, so I took my sister and left. I didn't know Saki survived."
"She blames you."
Ryoka stared at her hands blankly. "There's no other person alive to blame."
Gaara watched her for a moment, and then steeled himself, waiting for her reaction with his next words. He knew that she didn't fear him, but he didn't want that fear to be because of ignorance. It was pointless if she didn't fear him because she simply didn't know of the atrocities he had committed far and wide. So he hardened his heart, preparing for the worst, and took a chance.
"I… killed my uncle."
He watched her face closely, waiting with bated breath for the surprise and horror, and the distance sure to follow. He waited for the icy reply, the repulsion, and then the fear. The dreaded fear that she, who had never been afraid of him before, would now possess. But once again, she surprised him.
Ryoka could tell just by his voice that the words almost physically hurt him.
"That must have been hard."
She was met with silence. Suddenly self-conscious, she wondered if she had said something offensive, and her gaze shifted to peek at him from the corner of her eye.
He was staring at her with wide eyes, more surprised than she had ever seen him, and his mouth was parted slightly, an expression of pure shock. She blinked, and then felt the color begin to flood her cheeks again as he continued staring, completely unaware of their surroundings.
She shifted slightly, feeling awkward and uncomfortable with his undivided attention, and found herself staring at her hands once again, unable to get the warmth back to her fingertips.
"You… aren't afraid?"
She continued looking at her hands, her cheeks heating as she felt his stare continue to burn into her.
"I've never killed anyone," she admitted quietly, "But Nanabi has." She turned to look at him, her eyes warm and melancholy. "Other people don't see the difference."
Gaara felt a rush of something warm and almost euphoric surge through him at her words, startling him and causing him to stutter.
"I-I see," he answered, unable to stop the stammer. He had been taken by complete surprise at her response, as she always did, and he wondered if there was some way he could return the feeling she had given him just now.
She had her own darkness, one that he was just beginning to understand, and while it ate away and hurt her, she kept shoving it aside to help manage his. It was incredible and at the same time, it bothered him that she struggled and suffered alone. For reasons he didn't quite understand, he wanted her to ask him for help. Even if he didn't quite know how, he wanted to reciprocate the help he was receiving so unconditionally. It seemed unbalanced, and he hoped he would learn soon how to help others in addition to controlling himself.
He pondered that as she sat beside him, lost in her own thoughts.
Ryoka could not get Gaara's words out of her head.
You are my important person.
She had never expected to be more than a guide, a good example to follow, but now she wondered what that meant for the two of them. She certainly wasn't indifferent to Gaara. The rage she felt when others looked down on him and the pain she felt when he was struggling or suffering was proof of that.
But she was important to him. He had given her a label when he still only had rudimentary knowledge of relationships to begin with.
Should you try to harm my important person a third time, you will not leave this village alive.
Why had those foreboding words sent an electric shock through her veins? Why did it give her a feeling that she couldn't identify, but had certainly felt… good?
How was she supposed to see him in response? In her mind it was simple. He was the Wanderer's next target. A human being that needed help. She'd never gotten attached to a target before. Sometimes their thanks made her feel lighter, even a bit happier, but she'd never been personally involved. Wanderer had never had a long term target.
Why did his words to Saki make her heart pound in her chest?
She couldn't tell if she was worried or if it was just foreign to her that someone actually defend her.
She closed her eyes. Her thoughts were going in circles. It was pointless to dwell. Other things were more important. Things like fixing Gaara's seal and meeting the Council tomorrow for her next mission.
The Council knew she was smart, and knew she was working towards a goal, though they didn't know what it was, so she was fairly certain they would use the next mission either as a task she was unlikely to be able to complete or one that would get her out of Sunagakure for a while so that they could get their bearings and try to determine what she was after.
She closed her eyes, unaware now that Gaara was still watching her, and drifted slowly back into her meditative state, safe from nightmares. Feelings and emotions were irrelevant. She would complete her goal, and then leave behind this place and move along once more, just as she always had.
Fading into the shadows was second nature to her, and it satisfied her. She could only hope that until she succeeded, silence would suffice when she was asked to stay.