A/N: a heavier dose of Gaara/saku this time around. While I have read and appreciate the overall input from your comments, I will again reiterate that the style of writing I've chosen (bold text to define POV) , is here to stay. I get that some of you don't care for it and that's fine, but I'm not changing it. To me, that doesn't equate to a 'grammar issue, spelling problem, etc'; it's simply my style of storytelling. Another note: when I say 'don't like, don't read' I'm not being petty, rude or refusing to accept constructive criticism! I'm just stating the fact that I have no intentions of changing up my style. Simple as that.

K! Now that that's out of the way….

《》

Attachment

《》

Confused, disconcerted and filled with hot shame, Sakura dragged herself through many mornings afterwards, oftentimes lost within her own thoughts.

She'd speak little at breakfast (though she'd thank the Fates profusely that Gaara was not present, having been called away at sunrise) and begin her morning rounds early as usual, assisting Dr. Ichinen, before starting her medical instruction at noon.

On one such occasion, at half past 2, Kankuro made a surprise visit and after exchanging pleasantries, the burly sand man said, "Hey Sakura, Temari mentioned you stop by the house at this time every afternoon to shower and change before your evening shift starts; could you drop this off in Gaara's home office for me? It's just a brief missive regarding a merchant delivery, but I haven't gotten around to getting it to him. "

He handed the pinkette a narrow scroll. "I'd take it myself but I'm already late for the annual briefing with the council, and Temari would skin me alive if I'm late." he sweat-dropped, scratching the back of his head, and Sakura smirked knowingly, accepting the missive. "Of course I understand; don't worry, I'll be sure it gets to his desk. "

The burly man seemed to relax then and he offered her a beaming smile, "Thanks 'kura-chan, you're the best!"

With that, Kankuro set off; his beaming smile and nickname, reminded her of a certain boisterous, loveable blonde, and her heart sank….

If only she'd had the capacity to truly love Naruto the way he deserved. . .

Not for the first time, Sakura wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with her; why didn't she possess the capacity to love those who truly loved and appreciated her? Why had she been drawn to a persistently one-sided relationship that left her crumbled and wanting, more than ever before?

She'd puzzled this thought over and over in her mind; each time, she came up empty.

'maybe I'm – just not cut out for authentic love. . .' but this thought only saddened her further, leaving her deeply discouraged as she trudged her way into the Sabaku manor.

She'd never actually been to Gaara's home office, and realized she should've asked Kankuro to direct her. Still, with the general layout of the place and knowing where Gaara's bed chambers were located, the pinkette reasoned that his office would be close by, for functionality purposes.

Heading off in that direction, Sakura passed by his rooms, and then made a few more turns, passed through another atrium, and met with another network of winding hallways. If this were any other circumstance, she may have used her chakra as a sensor, but this being the Kazekage's house, it felt invasive to do so, and that didn't sit right with her.

Passing another corridor, the woman was about to turn around and go back the way she'd come, when the peculiar muffled sound of children's voices, reached her ears.

Curiosity thoroughly piqued, Sakura's feet carried her down the long corridor that seemed like a go-between, connecting this part of the mansion, to another smaller building altogether.

She came to a set of double doors and halted when she felt the strong pulse of a sealing chakra, acting as an impenetrable lockout system, cloaking the entrance.

The signature was familiar, and as Sakura raised a tentative hand out, the Jutsu automatically disengaged at her touch, allowing her to step through.

The voices were closer, growing louder, until Sakura pushed another set of doors opened…and stared in awe at the sight before her.

《》

It was a modest, yet spacious network of rooms and living areas filled with children anywhere from the ages of twelve, down to as young as two years old. Clearly, this part of the manor had been an add-on in recent years and it dawned on Sakura that it must be Sunagakure's village orphanage.

When she noticed the ratio of caregivers to children, it was obvious that the adults had been placed there as permanent guardians, filling that position for parents who were deceased.

One woman – late 30s – was hurrying by when she spotted Sakura lingering in the doorway looking lost. "Ah, you must be Haruno-San! I'm Lily, the head House mother here at The Nest; is there something I can help you with?"

"Ah, sorry I – I came here by accident actually; I apologize if I'm intruding."

The woman had light brown hair and dark eyes that were warm and lined with laugh lines. "No worries, dear, you're not intruding. Perhaps you got lost on your way to Kazekage-sama's home office?"

The pinkette nodded sheepishly.

"Well," Lily smiled warmly, noting the thin scroll Sakura carried in her hands. "Why don't you come this way?" she gestured invitingly.

"The Kazekage is making his regular afternoon visit to the children; you can deliver your message to him there, in the reading room." The woman pointed to one of the rooms that broke off from the main area, then returned to her earlier task, leaving Sakura looking nervous and uncertain as to what she should do next.

While she knew the missive was an important matter, the thought of facing Gaara after her 'troubling dreams' left the pinkheaded woman shrinking with mortification.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the chance to decide, as a sudden ruckus ensued when the doorway to the reading room was filled with boisterous, excited children clamoring at the feet of the Kazekage himself, who emerged – smiling as he carried one child in his arms. The boy was small, dressed in black robes, with dark face paint marking his eyes in a tribal design. He looked to be no more than 4 years old and he clung to the kazekage, tucking his small head on Gaara's shoulder as he appeared to doze off.

The sight of the redhead surrounded by children, their smiles and endless questions only drawing tender expressions from him as he patiently responded to them, hit Sakura square in the heart.

She gulped and a tender smile spread across her lips, unknowingly betraying her budding admiration for this man who was quiet, introspective, and far too often misunderstood.

'Gaara…you really do have the sweetest soul, don't you?' her inner thoughts mused.

The woman was so caught up in the moment that she didn't register the jade orbs turning in her direction; by the time she realized she'd been staring – and that now he was staring right back – it was too late.

Jade orbs widened in surprise at discovering her there, before the owner allowed himself a brief, satisfied smirk when the pinkheaded woman's cheeks were doused in red that crept down the length of her neck.

She was clearly embarrassed at being 'caught', yet Gaara detected another unexpected emotion flash through her eyes when they connected with his.

She looked – mortified, and there was a telltale sheen to her orbs that hinted keen shame. . .

The redhead's eyes narrowed, invisible brow arcing in question as he wondered at this.

When she made a half turn as if to leave, Gaara moved to intercept. "Sakura," his gravelly voice halted her would-be escape as he crossed the room to her. The child in his arms was nearly asleep by then, and he paused to hand him off to one of the caretakers; "Sleep well, Shinki," he murmured in the toddler's ear, and Sakura's breath hitched when he dropped a brief kiss to the toddler's hair as the caretaker took him away.

His mannerisms towards the boy struck a strong paternal cord, and she wondered at the nature of their connection.

"A-Ah, Kazekage-sama,' she stammered; the displeased tick in Gaara's brow did not go unnoticed, but regardless of his preference to be called simply 'Gaara' the pinkette wasn't about to address him so casually when so many of his subordinates were present. "I lost my way to your home office. . .I didn't mean to intrude. . ."

Somehow, the woman couldn't shake the feeling that she'd stumbled upon one of Sunagakure's well-kept secrets; last she knew, the orphanage had been on the academy grounds which was a fair distance away. It appeared Gaara had taken it upon himself to make some pretty significant changes.

"It's alright; I intended to bring you here myself, eventually." When the redhead stepped up to her side, an unbidden image flashed through Sakura's head;

'Pale flesh warmed by the desert sun, sliding against her own; pools of molten jade gazing heatedly upon her as she carded her fingers through flaming locks of hair, slicked with sweat. . .'

Mortification slammed into her, and Sakura barely managed to keep from stumbling away from the man standing next to her; she felt the shame heating her cheeks, and coughed, massaging her forehead with her fingertips, to disguise her obvious discomfort. "R-Right, of course. Well this is – extraordinary. I have a feeling this is meant to be a secret, though? I sensed some sort of barrier at the entrance. I wouldn't have knowingly intruded but, I think I may have disrupted it somehow; my hand touched it and I was suddenly passing through-"

"That barrier is mine; of my own making, I mean." The redhead clarified. "There's a few select individuals that I have registered as 'approved' signatures; they can pass through without hindrance."

Sakura waited, expecting him to continue, but then Gaara fell unexpectedly quiet and his face was turned conveniently away from her.

". . .I see. So then, the only way I was able to pass through as easily as I did. . ." she let the end of that sentence hang, sliding a careful glance to the man who now stood stiffly at her side, still avoiding her eyes.

"I – may have registered your signature – before," the redhead stated haltingly,

" 'before'?" she tilted her head forward a bit, attempting to get a look at his face.

Gaara foiled her attempt by turning his body slightly away, and raising his hand to scratch just behind his ear, obscuringher view; his other arm was neatly folded behind his back, hand curled into a fist.

Sensing his awkwardness, Sakura took pity on him and backed off.

But then, Gaara surprised her by inclining his head imperceptibly in her direction, and murmuring, "Truthfully, I've known your chakra signature by heart; since the day you saved my life. . ." He confessed in a measured tone.

His admission floored the pinkette, and her face betrayed her, flooding with color as a version of his words echoed through her memory from a dream;

'You can't escape me,' the redhead declared as he held her close, straddling his lap; his hips continued to roll upwards, into her, as he brought his mouth just below her ear to whisper ardently, 'I know you by heart, my sweet oasis'

Her mind screeched back to reality, and with it, a fresh new wave of horror; unable to conceal it fully, Sakura's breath escaped her in a broken gasp that instantly drew the attention of the Kazekage. He was just turning towards her, his eyes catching a glimpse of her reddening face over his shoulder, when the green eyed women stole a hand over her cheek, turned and fled back through the entrance with a muttered, 'Excuse me. ' tossed hastily over her shoulder.

Blindsided by her abrupt exit, Gaara temporarily froze, eyes fixed to the spot where she'd been just moments before. " – Sakura . . .?"

When there was no answer, his body caught up with his brain, and the redhead reacted instantly, striding briskly through the door, after her.

《》

Flustered and beyond mortified at this point, Sakura dashed hastily through the halls – not even minding the direction she was headed – face flaming and eyes burning with tears of embarrassment.

"Oh God – oh gods!" She whispered shakily, cupping her cheeks in trembling hands and slapping them; as if that could chase away the traitorous color taking permanent residence upon her countenance.

'How could this have happened?!'

There was no plausible explanation for any of her recent behaviors – Save one.

She was attracted to Gaara.

That was the single most logical conclusion, though the conclusion itself, had the pinkette railing against it as mortifyingly illogical; how on earth had she allowed this to happen, yet again?!

The most unreachable man in the history of ever, and yep, that's the one little miss Haruno's treacherous heart has to go and get a crush on.

'This is ridiculous!' she chided inwardly; not only was she crushing on Sabaku no Gaara, Suna's highly-esteemed and sought after Kazekage, the woman had been suffering a morality crisis on account that she'd been having fucking wet dreams featuring said-kazekage, for weeks! Groaning aloud, Sakura turned down another hallway, steps quickening as her self-appointed humiliation mounted. 'And now, I can hardly look at him without having some thought or image race through my head! These – dreams!' for the millionth time, Sakura just couldn't understand why she was destined to fall for the complicated, unattainable men. Why couldn't she just love someone simple? Someone open and transparent with their feelings, who could give her stability and security. . .

But if the woman were being completely honest with herself, that kind of hope was a bonafide pipe dream; nothing about her life – or her – was uncomplicated. To expect simplicity in the midst of all her personal chaos, was far too unrealistic, and she knew she'd just been avoiding facing the truth, to save herself further disappointment.

There was no running from it now, and in a burst of frustration, Sakura slammed a fist into the nearby wall, denting it just as the first few tears broke free and fell down her cheeks.

More emotionally exhausted then physically, the pinkette slumped against the wall and braced her forehead in the palm of her hand.

". . . Why did it have to be him?!" She mourned brokenly, and sniffled as she buried her face in her hands.

There was a clamor of footsteps at the opposite end of the hallway, and then red appeared as the Kazekage himself filled the corridor.

"Sakura, what are you - ?" his eyes caught sight of the petal-headed woman – eyes glassy, and slumped against the wall – and instantly, Gaara's senses were poised on a sharp edge. Slowing his pace marginally, the redhead paused and asked, "What's wrong?" before his steps resumed, more cautious, yet intent on reaching her side.

Oh no. The pinkette thought in alarm.

'I can't – now that I've worked out why I've been feeling this way, I, I don't know how to hide it from him; Gaara's so perceptive, w-worse than Kakashi-sensei; he'll see the truth spilling out all over my face!'

Petrified at the thought of Gaara discovering her 'shameful' secret attraction to him, Sakura scrambled for any pretense to explain her hasty exit earlier.

"S-Sorry, I just felt a little lightheaded, and I was worried if I was getting sick, I could pass it to the children,"

"You feel unwell?" Gaara's brows furrowed in concern and he crossed the hall, closing in on the place where she stood. "Have you eaten yet, since this morning?" he queried, and Sakura's breathing hitched when the redhead thoughtlessly reached out his hand, laying the back of it across her forehead.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe.

"I - I'm sure it's n-nothing." She stammered, eyes widening when his jade orbs were suddenly upon hers, as Gaara's body drew closer, narrowing the limited space between them.

"Are you certain?" The redhead prodded a final time, and his genuine concern for her welfare would have touched her more deeply, if she wasn't so thoroughly distracted by his hand upon her face; it slid forward across her forehead, then back and then, he trailed the backs of his fingers down the length of her cheek, his eyes sharply focused as he checked for any indication of fever.

Sakura held her breath, waiting for any moment, when he'd drop his hand away and withdraw;

The tip of his middle finger grazed the corner of her mouth, and the pinkette could not quell the startled gasp of breath, nor her body's reflexive shudder in response to the redhead's proximity.

Every physical reaction from her, caught Gaara's eye; when her body gave a shudder and red flooded her cheeks, it arrested his attention, and he stilled.

There was a drawn out moment where everything between them just froze; then, something his brother had once said surged to the forefront of Gaara's mind.

'Sure, women are hard to understand; some of them are downright impossible. But one thing I've learned? What a woman won't say with her mouth, can almost always be read through her body language. You just have to be patient enough to pay attention.'

With this thought firmly in place, Jade orbs narrowed and all of Gaara's senses sharpened into focus on the woman before him. The hand on Sakura's cheek had stilled, but now the redhead's intentions had changed; deliberately, he let his hand stroke a path down to her jawline where he paused, gauging her response.

While Sakura's general demeanor remained perfectly motionless, the look in her eyes shifted – pupils dilating – and her lips parted.

Intrigued, Gaara touched the pad of his thumb to just shy of the corner of her mouth. "Why is your face so red, Sakura?" he asked lowly, curiously. "You don't appear to have – a fever, yet,"

He briefly touched the back of his hand to her other cheek – she startled imperceptibly, reddening further – before the redhead fully cradled her cheek in his hand and settled sharp, penetrating eyes upon her.

". . .you seem to blush furiously whenever I touch you; or even when I look at you. Earlier, when you first came to the orphanage, our eyes met, and you seemed unsettled or – embarrassed that I'd caught you."

Parting her lips – willing herself to ignore the sensation of his hand upon her skin – Sakura answered in a forcefully level voice that still sounded too breathless to her own ears, "I was just – caught off guard, that's all. Earlier, I mean. A-also, just now I – "

" 'Just now'. . .What?" He pressed gently, but the flicker of intensity in his eyes belied his eagerness to know the answer.

Heart staggering, all Sakura could do was look back and forth between his magnetizing orbs as the mantra sounded off in her head, 'this isn't happening, this isn't happening!'

Catching a flicker of fear in her emerald depths, the Kazekage's expression darkened, and he unconsciously stepped closer; barely a space of breath was left between them and Gaara felt that all too familiar pull that he always felt with Sakura whenever she was near him.

It had been there since the very beginning; her saving his life had been just the start of it all. Now, the redhead had to admit that his fascination with her was swiftly morphing into an intense attraction that was bordering on obsession. Everything about her drew him in and instead of satiating his 'hunger', the redhead only wanted more – and more.

As Gaara contemplates this, he feels Sakura's body begin to tremble beneath his touch; it's only slight, but it's enough to warrant the Kazekage's notice and when jade eyes meet green, his lips part at the wide-eyed terror he finds playing across her face.

". . .Sakura. . ."

"Please let me go." The woman whispers shakily.

A shadow passes over three redhead's countenance, and his hand falls away from her. "So. It's me, that frightens you." He murmured disappointedly, but then Sakura's shaking her head furiously in the negative,

"No, not you. Never you. . ." she emphasizes earnestly, and he's drawn to look in her eyes again, in search of the truth.

". . . Then what?"

Biting her lip, she looks at his eyes, his face; reading what he needs, and she says simply, quietly, "I'm afraid of myself."

Her confession throws him off; unexpected, that in the presence of a man with his history and reputation, this woman would be left trembling on account of a fear that is self-inflicted.

" – why would you fear who you are? There is not an ounce of evil in you, Sakura."

"maybe not, but there's selfishness; I'm – horribly selfish. A-And there are many other things too." At this, her voice dropped to nearly a whisper and shame lingered in her eyes as they strayed from his penetrating gaze.

"I know a bit of what it is – to afraid of yourself," the redhead began carefully,

"And I also know that you have nothing to fear, Sakura."

"I don't trust myself, Gaara, that's -"

"I do." He cut in firmly.

Heart stuttering, green eyes snapped up to his face and rounded; his eyes were smoldering.

"I trust you implicitly. Since you saved my life; I always have. And I've never been afraid of you." He stated this with an earnestness that conveyed the depth of his sincerity and understanding.

Of course Gaara would identify keenly with self-loathing or a version of fearing one's own identity; in all honesty, to have someone say 'I'm not afraid of you' and mean it, had to have been a monumental turning point in Gaara's life – it only made sense that the levity of his chosen words, was made apparent in this statement.

"I don't know what you truly think of you, Gaara – I just – I don't doubt your sincerity or your honesty, but I-"

In a rare moment of transparency, the young Kazekage dropped his impeccable mask of calm, and heaved a heavy sigh while dragging both hands down the length of his face. "Sakura, Sakura – why won't you just let me help you?" another long-suffering sigh escaped his lips and then that tiny hint of a smile that the pinkette had come to love, curved the corners of his lips.

"You really are a stubborn – exasperating woman."

"Well, I've been called worse. . ." the woman chuckled softly, though a hint if sadness touched the edges of her tentative smile.

"I could help you," Gaara voiced insistently, "I know I could." He looked aside, feeling naked beneath her inquisitive green eyes, yet not fully willing to put distance between them.

Sakura ducked her head, attempting to catch his gaze, "you keep saying that; but there are so many other people you can hello, Gaara, people you've already helped! Naruto talks about you all the time, he says – you werelikely the most alone person he'd ever met, and yet you are the most generous and kind. . ." her voice warmed as she spoke, and Gaara's eyes darted aside to meet hers.

"You don't – you don't need to feel so obligated to help me, I-"

"It's not – obligation, I already told you -" sensing a rise in frustration, Gaara bit back his tone, took a steadying breath, and continued, "I told you," he began, gentler this time, "that my care for you has nothing to do with some twisted sense of debt you imagine I believe I owe."

This round and round had Sskura mentally tiring, and groaning in measured irritation, the pinkette threw up her hands and muttered "okay. Then what is it, huh? Honestly Gaara, your concern for me is touching, right up to the point where I'm starting to suspect you see me as some kind of 'damaged' woman you can repair."

The bite in her tone indicated she was not happy, and when he looked squarely in her eyes, he could see her walls rising again in an attempt to keep him 'out'; Gaara's patience was thin and this time, he blatantly pushed the boundary. " 'damaged' is what I see everyday in the mirror, Sakura; by no means am I projecting that onto you, and your assumption that I would do so, is unfair."

Pushing her fingers through tangled pink tresses, the woman gave an irritated growl and half-shouted, "then what?! Why me, why are you so hell bent on-"

Meeting her argument with equal fervor, the redhead's voice came out strained, "why can't you just accept that I care?!" he demanded harshly, only to be brought up short by her fiery response,

"Because I'm never that lucky!"

Her angry words were offset by the sudden trembling of her chin, and Gaara's own mounting frustration deflated instantly when he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.

"I'm - n-never that lucky; anyone I think that I have the remote chance to form a connection with…they're either 'too good' like Naruto, or 'terrible' like Sasuke or – " her eyes clashed with his, turning in expression as she realized she may have just divulged the nature of her feelings towards the redhead.

For Gaara, her comparison between himself, Naruto and Sasuke, had offered him a portion of insight into why Sakura seemed so adamant that he take no further interest in her beyond the fragility of their carefully constructed friendship.

What had him thoroughly surprised was that the pinkette must feel a certain level of attraction towards him, if she was so insistent about drawing a definitive 'line' between them. If all Sakura had felt for Gaara was platonic friendship, there would be no need for emphasis on such distinctions, nor would she be rendered in such an emotionally flustered state, at the prospect of Gaara wanting to deepen their friendship.

With a sharp intake of breath, Gaara's jade orbs affixed upon her and he stated plainly, "You feel a certain level of attraction to me, and you're humiliated because you think - I'm untouchable. Is that it?" he asked carefully, unable to mask the tentative hope lacing his deep gravelly voice as he waited intently for her answer.

There was a beat of deafening silence, and then Sakura's green eyes rounded to saucers as she cupped her hands over her mouth, smothering a gasp.

Her reaction was all the confirmation he needed, and Gaara felt his heart soar for the first time in all his seventeen years; while Naruto's breakthrough and friendship had brought him happiness and acceptance, Sakura's confession of an attachmentto him beyond friendship, brought him unspeakable elation.

He was now more convinced than ever, that Sakura's presence in Suna – in his life – was destined, and he determined to fight for the chance to win her heart, wholly and completely; it wouldn't be easy, he knew her hesitation was deeply rooted in fear and self-doubt.

He vowed to obliterate those hindrances, regardless of the lengths he'd have to traverse. Sakura, may deem him 'unattainable' and herself, unworthy to obtain the place at his side; Gaara would have no one else – she was his endgame.

"Your silence speaks for itself," he breathed, and took a step closer.

'Oh gods, he knows. . .'

Shaking her head, Sakura raised her hand up to show him a flat palm, "N-No Gaara, this – I can't!"

"What do you mean? Why?" his brows furrowed in confusion and Sakura's expression was dumbstruck shock.

"Really? Gaara you're the Kazekage! You're a highly esteemed politician, and you have the expectations of your people to consider! B-Besides that. . ." the woman stammered, and shrank back even further against the wall as her eyes dropped to the flow between them.

". . . You're seventeen, right? I'm eighteen; that makes me a year older than you."

The redhead cocked a questioning brow, "And?"

Looking horrified, Sakura cast furtive eyes in either direction before she hissed lowly, "Must I spell it out for you?!"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Gaara straightened to his fill height and all traces of humor were wiped from his face. "I believe it is imperative that you do."

"I'd be legally guilty for taking advantage of you! You are not a child by any stretch of the imagination, Kazekage-sama, b-but frankly, you're – still a minor as law dictates," her cheeks flamed furiously as she said this, never having felt so awkward by any conversation in her life before; and she'd had to explain the whole 'birds and the bees' thing to Naruto!

Gaara blinked owlishly, and then his lips parted as a trace of humor glittered in his eyes, "You're concerned about my – purity?" He asked in astonishment; then something occurred to him and his jade eyes heated, becoming half-lidded as he contemplated the possibility that Sakura's attraction for him, was just as much physically rooted, as it was rooted in friendship.

". . . Is it possible that you've been wanting to bed me?" He asked plainly, his expression shamelessly direct, and the small smirk upon his lips had turned predatory; the redhead didn't even attempt to hide it.

Stunned, Sakura gasped in abject horror (embarrassment really), and gaped at him.

"I didn't – how d-dare you! gods, you're - sh-shameless!" she cried breathlessly, and thoughtlessly back-handed Gaara in the chest as she hurriedly shoved past him.

When her hand connected with him, it wasn't a wholehearted smack, but he could feel the strength in that simple gesture, and a primal part of him was ignited, his inner 'beast' purring in approval.

Unable to stop himself, Gaara turned his body, catching her wrist just as she'd made it passed his shoulder, and with a firm tug, he maneuvered her into the circle of his arms.

Sakura barely resisted – too surprised by his action – and Gaara's hold on her was steadfast, as he slid a strong arm around her waist, palm splayed intimately against the small of her back.

This way, he held her body firmly within his grasp, and the hand that captured hers, held it aloft just above his shoulder.

"As long as you reside in Suna, I am your Kazekage; I have not dismissed you." He barked in warning.

With a shuddering intake of breath, Sakura forced her eyes to remain level with his shoulder and murmured carefully, "And I am trying to respect you as such; th-this issue isn't a concern, I promise you-"

"It is my concern. Firstly, you are grossly underestimating your value."

The pinkette began shaking her head, already disputing his point, but Gaara simply ignored her and continued firmly, "Secondly, you have made a misjudgment; that your – personal interest in me is something you should be 'ashamed' of, is incorrect."

He felt the woman in his arms still, yet she stubbornly refused to raise her head and meet his eyes; the redhead gazed fondly upon the crown of her head, exasperating, as she was. "Not only that – but your reasoning is flawed; my age and my position are hardly motives for dissuasive measures. I am the Kazekage yes, but my personal life has always been a completely separate matter from my duties as a leader; I do not allow the opinions of my people – or those degenerate old crones,"

Sakura did raise her eyes to his then and her green orbs were wide, scandalized by Gaara's course reference to his council.

In truth, the redhead had spoken just so, in hopes of getting a reaction out of her; he was pleased with the result and his jade orbs warmed, that minuscule grin spreading further as he held her gaze, "dictate my choices. . .I alone, decide my destiny." He finished resolutely.

Awed by his impassioned speech, the petal-headed woman just stared up at him, then chuckled softly as an ironic smile curved her lips. "Hm, you know it's funny; you sound like Naruto when you say that." An unexpected shadow fell across his countenance, and confused, Sakura's smile dimmed.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you thought of him; I've admired Naruto and his ideals for years, and our frequent correspondence would naturally cause me to – mirror elements of his values, to an extent. . ."

He released her hand, and slowly, she let it rest on his shoulder.

His other hand remained where it had been, splayed against her back, and now that he'd relinquished her hand, his merely dropped back to his side.

". . . You don't – sound altogether pleased by that though…?" She inquired gently, and for some godforsaken reason, Gaara's brain-to-mouth filter short circuited.

"Is it so wrong of me to hope that you'd forget about him, and only think of me?"

When her eyes blew wide in astonishment, the Kazekage knew the mistake he'd made.

His body's response was almost visceral; every nerve ending recoiled from her – his own eyes mirrored her shock – and he raised a shaking hand to cover his mouth.

"I - didn't mean to -" he scrambled for an explanation, anything to absolve him from the mortifying embarrassment of his mistake. But the look in her eyes glared back at him.

"I'm sorry, you – you weren't supposed to hear that." He confessed, and withdrew from her, steepled fingers pressed against sealed lips, as he turned away from her to face the wall.

Still stunned by his unintentional disclosure, Sakura stood stock still for a long moment, and just stared at his back.

She watched as he let loose a heavy laden sigh that caused his entire body to sag, and then his hands were on his hips as the Kazekage murmured something in the Sunaian tongue, before his head dropped between his shoulders.

He looked tired and defeated.

She felt a painful tug upon her heart, and discarding her own discomfort since the start of this conversation, Sakura reached out with her voice, "Gaara? Are you alright…?"

"No. I said far more than I'd meant to. I let my – emotions get the better of me." He gritted tightly, then inhaled sharply through his nose as he picked up his head and gave it a firm shake, in an effort to collect his raging thoughts.

"Again, I apologize; I have feelings about this that – I shouldn't burden you with. It won't happen again."

His back was to her, but for some unexplainable reason, the pinkette wanted to see his face. Reaching up a hand, she slowly and tentatively rested it against his back, between his shoulders. She felt Gaara stiffen, and she spoke his name softly, "Gaara,"

"Don't." He pleaded, and Sakura was struck by the obvious pain laced in his voice.

"Regardless of my feelings toward you, I can keep myself at a respectful distance. . .but if you get close to me, t-then that won't help. If you t-try to touch me so openly, without-"

With her hand still braced against his back, the woman circled round him, her hand sliding across his back with the motion, and caressing over his shoulder as she came to stand at his front. Catching the painful vulnerability in his eyes, Sakura's hand slid along the strong nape of his side, until it came to rest against his cheek.

Her actions had cut his words short, and now, Gaara could only stare at her in unveiled wonder and amazement.

It was instinctual to lean into her touch, and Gaara's lips parted on a shaky exhalation as his eyes bared the raw truth of how utterly starved he was for human contact; the look in his eyes broke her heart. He was famished and aching for affection.

Brushing her thumb along the curve of his cheekbone, she caressed the soft skin just beneath his eye; "You've been so lonely, all this time; you're one to talk of me needing to open up and be vulnerable. . .idiot." she scolded softly, a sympathetic smile touching her lips as she looked back and forth between his eyes.

"Why did you ask for me, Gaara? When you sent that petition to Tsunade. . ."

"Because we truly needed you; Suna's medical unit was on the verge of burning out. But," and here, the redhead hesitated, knowing he'd be tipping his hand prematurely. But the look in her eyes – the compassion and caring – and the feel of her touch against his skin, it weakened him to admit the truth; "But I also asked for you, because – because honestly, since you saved my life, I couldn't stop thinking of you, and then the war happened, and I just wanted – "

It was split second decision, yet the pinkette did not waver as she suddenly folded the redhead into her arms and silently laid her head against his shoulder. She'd tucked her arms beneath his, then slid them up and around his back so she could hold him against her in a complete embrace.

"I'm sorry I wasn't listening when you were just trying to reach out to me." She murmured apologetically, and then she felt his arms slowly raise – trembling – to return the hug. His grip was careful at first, but then when Sakura squeezed, it was like a switch flipped, and Gaara was caging her in an embrace that was nearly bone-crushing, and burrowing his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder.

He inhaled sharply; then exhaled, and his body gave a violent shudder before something inside of him broke.

Sakura felt the tremors first, and then the uneven breaths against her skin, seconds before the whole of Gaara came apart in her arms.

She held him tighter.

"It's alright; it's alright, Gaara, I'm here. I'm right here." She crooned softly, and then she felt the wetness against her neck followed by a muffled, aborted sob; her own eyes prickled with tears, but she said nothing as she continued to cradle the fragile redhead in her arms.

In many ways, they were both broken, damaged human beings; perhaps, it was their connectionthat would set them on the path to truly healing.

《》