Conflict at last! I'm targeting two more chapters after this (based on where I see this going) and then my short writing exercise will be done. Comments/feedback always welcome. People thought the last update was short, eh? Well it was, because I jumped the gun and put out two parts that should have been one part together. Silliness. I need more patience!

Disclaimer: See Part I

Once she knew she was in a cage, all she could think of was how to escape.

Everything she owned could fit into one bag, that hadn't changed, but now she was thinking more on that as a strategic advantage than a tragedy.

Mail was collected and delivered once a month; she had maybe a week or two until it came again. Temari and Kankuro were happy to help her leave, but they would take no obvious risks to help her due to having no special protection from Gaara's rage despite being family.

The trick to escaping, she told herself, would be making it seem like it was the last thing on her mind. The best way to blend would be to start insinuating herself into the surrounding environment. No one was keen on helping her learn the language, but Temari tolerated her better than most and allowed Sakura to tag along and point out objects with corresponding vocabulary. Temari didn't seem to live like the other women in the village, instead taking watches and patrols like a Roman soldier. Sakura had heard that tribes outside of Rome allowed their women to fight occasionally, but to see one in action was surreal. She was struck by how boring the life of a soldier was, with mostly walking, waiting, watching the woods, and chores occupying Temari's days. It afforded a lot of intensive language learning time for Sakura but there didn't appear any other benefit to her eyes.

When Temari finished her shift and went to train in the practice yard, Sakura took some time to wander the perimeter on her own and process what she had learned that day, a practice that she had taken to in the hope that it would structure her thoughts. The weather was clement these days, misty in the morning and burning off to mild afternoons. Suddenly spending so much time walking after being so sedentary had resulted in blisters on her feet but Sakura clung to the minor annoyances as reinforcement for her mission to escape. Anything the sparked her ire alleviated some of her fear.

Days spent this way felt engaging and almost restful in contrast to the evenings.

Threat of removal had given Gaara urgency to be around her. Sakura at least understood that much, recalling all too well how much more she wanted to do something when she was told she couldn't as a child. Everything about Gaara seemed to be so close to the surface, just a trigger away from any number of reactions and no warning for when he transitioned from placid to volcanic. Temari had tried to explain it to her one day, and even though Sakura had made great strides she didn't really get what having a "boar inside" meant. Maybe he was possessed by a minor god? That seemed to be the general village consensus, and Sakura remained deeply skeptical.

Possessed would be a kind word for him, with deranged floating to the top of her mind more often than not, swiftly followed by awkward. Gaara reminded her oddly of her friend Lee. Both of them seemed to be single minded to the point of peculiarity, both of them were obsessed with fighting, and both of them had no idea how to interact with other people like they were regular people.

In the afternoon, when troops were all expected to undergo their self-directed training in the small practice yard, Sakura would wander but she would also observe. Gaara may have been the leader, but he did not interact with anyone around him. Kankuro would teach, Temari would spar with anyone, but Gaara always had an area to himself as he moved through practice drills mechanically. Maybe the siblings together made up one functioning leader.

Evenings in the tent were tense. Sakura would write out accounts of the day, usually logging new words learned or interesting goings on about the village she noted, and Gaara would write out correspondence with Rome, orders to be given, decisions on village problems, or other paperwork she couldn't even guess at. One night she found him doing accounts, with numbers scratched out and placed randomly all around the page. She had only been coming near him for the water pitcher, but that part of her that demanded that order come from chaos meant she couldn't ignore him as she had been trying to the other nights.

"I did my own family's household accounts, you know."

Silence.

"My mother insisted I start practicing when I turned twelve. She said I'd need to know how to manage all the people who brought goods to the house."

He bent over the table lower, like her words could be deflected by his rust colored hair.

"I'm sure you can do it, but it would be nice to be of some use instead of sitting here and—"

"Would it stop you talking?" Gaara interrupted, peevish but not appearing overly upset.

"Yes." Sakura managed to say it sweetly.

The book of accounts landed in front of her unceremoniously, dusty, with all sorts of odd stains. She began to calculate and slowly a very strange picture emerged of Gaara's household. It only took a couple hours to make some fast decisions, the candle slowly slumping at the desk in front of her.

"You buy a lot of meat." She remarked. He didn't just buy a lot; it was almost all he bought until recently when she had arrived. "Cured meats seem to make up most of your meals."

"Cured meat lasts on the road."

"And how much time have you spent on the road in the past year?" He didn't respond. "And it looks like whoever is supplying you with bread is ripping you off. They have been increasing the price slowly so you won't notice. But if you compare last year around this time the difference is pretty significant."

That got a rise out of him. She saw the way his eyes flashed, going hard and scary.

"Don't do it. Don't you dare. I'll talk to the baker tomorrow if you like. Numbers are their own language." She almost smiled. "You handed me your accounts, and that's like giving a soldier orders. You can't do my job for me."

The tension in his form didn't go away, but it shifted as if it had nowhere to go but no longer had a focus either. Sakura was troubled by how easily she allowed herself to interact with him. Everything about him should have bothered her: the way he always had one eye on her, the way he ignored her and at the same time he hovered over her, the way he was keeping her here in this town against her wishes. Mostly she just felt bad for him at times like these: no family that wanted anything to do with him, all the responsibilities of leading troops and running a village, and nothing to look forward to other than fighting and paperwork. Presumably he liked the fighting, at least.

You're sympathizing with the enemy. Her inner voice reminded her none too gently. And you know I saw you examining the muscles on his arms earlier, too. That realization came as a slight shock.

Checking to make sure the wound had healed. That's all that was.

If he weren't forcing you to stay would you want to leave? Before she could chase that line of thinking down the rabbit hole she was jerked back into reality by the proximity of Gaara's face to hers. She must have just glazed over again while thinking her own thoughts, but then there was a certain stealthy quality to him as well.

"And they think I'm unbalanced." Something that might have been a smile but which looked more like the corner of his mouth twitching upward signaled her to the fact that Gaara had just made a joke at her expense.

"If you don't want someone to try to slip something into your bread then you need to be nice to the people that make your food, even if they are being crooks." Something about what she said made his sudden openness retreat immediately. He withdrew physically as well, leaving Sakura with a rapid heartbeat and a feeling like she had just missed an opportunity.

They didn't speak the rest of the evening. As Sakura went over the recent account entries she came away with the disturbing knowledge that he had spent a lot more money on her while she had been here than he ever spent on himself alone. No one outside of her family had ever given her so much, thought she couldn't honestly say he asked so little.

Sleep was restless every night, reinforced by the fact that every time she woke up he was just sitting there working on documents. Once (or more than that truthfully) she had found him glancing her way, and while the idea of him watching her sleep was undoubtedly creepy he never appeared to move from his position on the other side of the tent. Weighing sleeplessness and the resulting destruction of her mental abilities with the calculated risk that things would continue on as they had, Sakura landed on sleeping near him as an acceptable situation to bear.

Dreams had not been providing her with any enlightenment. Her brain was pumping out a steady stream of uselessness. No brilliant escape plan had appeared in her normally very fertile mind.

Crankily, she gestured at the overly expensive bread she fully intended to talk to someone about and tried to ask Gaara to hand it over to her using the limited vocabulary that Temari had been working on with her.

He may have greeted her with the same brooding look he had on last night when she woke up and joined him at the table for breakfast, but Gaara's face split into a wide smile at her words. There was too much tooth involved for it to be pleasant, but it seemed genuine.

At first Sakura had thought he hadn't heard her so she repeated it once more and pointed emphatically. Hungry, and losing patience, she reached out for it herself only to find her wrist tightly gripped by his calloused hand. Still smiling, he picked up the bread and placed it in her hand only releasing her after he met her eyes deliberately and responded with something she couldn't translate. Goosebumps ran up her arm, across her back, and covered her neck.

"Your accent is horrible." Nothing nice to say, how expected.

"At least I'm trying."

"Your grammar is wrong."

"Blame Temari then."

"I'm coming with you today to the baker."

"Absolutely not!"

Gaara seemed not to care that she was disagreeing with him. The smile was more a smirk at this point but it hadn't disappeared. "You can't even ask for food."

"My pointing skills are very advanced." She stuffed some food in her mouth to keep from arguing. It was too much like a breakfast at home with her mother, something that she had had not too long ago. Being so casual with this man made her feel younger, unguarded.

She ate too fast and grabbed the accounts book, trying to make this end as quickly as possible if he were coming with her. The morning was surprisingly cool and dewy, making her shiver as she stepped into the light. Gaara was right behind her, walking with her like a guard might. He strapped his sword on but she saw with relief that he was forgoing the cloak and helmet. It would have been too silly to have him with her in full regalia, like he was going to war. The sword was threatening enough.

Once they left the small encampment, suddenly there were more people on the street and children playing or running errands. It was as if Rome only touched this village when they were at war. Rome had more to offer than weapons, and she heaved a sigh as she tried to remember where the baker lived. Gaara stood behind her, silently waiting for her to move.

"You could stand next to me, you know. It isn't as if there is anyone within a bodylength of us preventing it." Gaara seemed to inspire that.

His sword clanked in the sheath softly as he moved up next to her. She gave a little smile of encouragement at him, glad he was no longer at her back. His brow knit as if he were trying to figure something out.

"And now maybe could you show me to the baker?" She hated admitting she couldn't do something, and she felt like she had to tangibly swallow her pride to let him lead the way.

The stares that received on their stroll made her deeply regret this activity. Small children watched her open mouthed, while most adults knew better and just snuck glances at her as they passed. It wasn't Sakura herself inspiring all the gawking, she had been in the village long enough to be old news, but Gaara walking with her through the streets seemed to scandalize everyone. Having spent so much of her life being socially forgettable, she had always wanted to be known. It seemed to her that it was not as fun as it had appeared now that she had achieved it, if on a much smaller level than some of the great women in Rome.

"We're here." He stopped suddenly and she bumped into his shoulder hard. His arm shot out to steady her, and it seemed to Sakura like people nearby had withdrawn from them even more.

"I can't stop you from coming in with me," She prefaced. "But I don't want you to say a word until I have a chance. Can you agree to that?" She didn't want it to seem like a favor, because it wasn't.

He gestured for her to enter, and she took his silence as agreement. "You'll see." She tried to give herself confidence by setting her shoulders back and putting on her most winning smile.

The baker's face fell and froze when he saw who had entered the shop. Sakura marched up to him with the book of accounts and he looked at it, her, and then Gaara before doing what she assumed he thought was the only sensible thing and ran out the back.

"Well," was all Sakura could say when she had recovered from the shock. "At least it didn't end in…" Gaara wasn't behind her, she noted.

These were not shoes suitable for running, was her only thought as she screamed Temari's name through the streets. Someone would get her, she was sure, and somehow they would stop Gaara from whatever he had planned. The man really shouldn't have run. It was like a mouse darting in front of a cat, and Gaara was just following his nature as a predator. Human, dummy, he's human! She had to remind her brain to stop treating him like everyone else did.

Kankuro was the one who found her, breathless and clutching her aching side in the middle of the street. She got out enough of what happened that Kankuro took up the chase with her, a stony expression on his face. He feared the worst, obviously. It couldn't have been an hour when he swore he'd be back and still was not when she saw the almost unbelievably odd sight of the baker, hands bound behind, being marched through the street with Gaara behind, sword out but not bloodied.

It looked as though the baker has slid through the mud on one side, but thankfully there was no rusty blood implying Gaara's ever sharp sword had been used in any other fashion than prod.

"You were not at the store." Gaara remarked when he was close enough for Sakura to hear. "Show him the book now, he won't run again." He remarked something in his own tongue that made the baker whimper.

Kankuro and Temari appeared down the street behind Gaara and skidded to a halt when he whipped his head around to glare at them. Temari's mouth fell open in clear shock and then snapped up as she schooled her face into something more neutral. Kankuro laughed nervously next to her.

Sakura numbly approached the muddy, terrified man and showed him the account page entries. She showed him the newest entry, scratched it out and entered a new amount. His eyes flicked to the side as if that would allow him to see the sword at his back and he nodded his assent to the new payment amount.

"Tell him we expect the refund by the end of tomorrow." Sakura said, watching Gaara lower his sword and give the man a growled order. He sank to his knees in relief, trembling as Gaara cut the bonds holding his hands behind him.

He looked far too smug, Sakura thought. "You know he would have had to come back to the shop eventually."

"This way was more fun." Gaara said with a shrug, letting the pieces of rope fall to the ground unheeded.

"Not for him."

"No one else will dare cheat me now." He said to her simply, as if the ends justified it all.

Sakura huffed. "You'll be lucky if he doesn't spit into your bread every day." She said it under her breath but she was sure he heard her somehow as the corner of his mouth twitched up. The day had been mortifying and it wasn't even half done. It was a small mercy that at least no one in Rome knew of all the ridiculously silly and dangerous situations she had been put through since coming here. Ino would have pretended not to know her.

As Temari casually strolled by them, on her way back to patrol duty, it was like she was channeling Ino as she whispered into Sakura's ear. "Next time you go for an outing with your sweetheart, try to cause a little less chaos."

Sarcastic or not it hit a nerve as Sakura turned the same color as her hair from her forehead down.