In the oncoming weeks that followed that strange night, the Universe decided to actually throw her a bone. No, she didn't get that goddamn bloodstain out of her shirt but blood was a bitch to get out, so that was chalked up as a loss.

An expensive loss but a loss nonetheless.

No, she was talking about the laid-back workweeks she'd been having. Not once did she get stuck with overtime. She'd been clocking out on time for several days straight, when the goddamn Sun was still up. It was goddamn glorious. And! And she even remembered to bring her shoes. That's right, not only was she able to enjoy a leisurely stroll home after work, she was comfortable while doing it. Fuckin' win for her.

Thank you, Universe, for finally looking out for ya girl.

But still, just because she had time after work didn't mean she did anything different with it. She kept her same routine, going straight home and holing up in her shit apartment. It was for the best, she reminded herself time and time again. It sucked though. She wanted to go out and explore Tokyo but she knew better.

Either way, at least she got to go home on time and that was good enough for now. Maybe she'd give it another six months of pretty much hiding away in her apartment before exploring Tokyo. That sounded like a good plan. A little unhinged but that was minor.

"Oh, I could stop at the convenience store…" she mumbled one lovely afternoon. She was just about to start shutting down her computer and was figuring out if she wanted to cook dinner or pick something cheap up. She liked cooking but she found herself often too tired to get any of it done.

"Orrrr, you could finally say yes to a date with me." A head peered over the little wall separating the cubicles. Ah, Shibata Masaru. He was friendly enough but he'd been asking her out on a date ever since her first day.

She politely declined each and every time. She wasn't interested in dating, not him or anyone in general but he never seemed to fully grasp that. In fact, he might be thinking that she was trying to play hard to get, the dumbass. Besides, she had a feeling he was the type of guy to take a girl out expecting her to spread her legs for one dinner.

Yeah. Hard pass.

Even so, she knew better than to slight a man with a fragile ego, especially one she worked with. She wouldn't be surprised if he made her workday a shitshow or Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he tried to get her fired. So, instead of telling him to get fucked, she very politely declined his invite.

Every. Day.

Xin slapped on her customer service smile as she turned to look up at him. He was handsome, she guessed, in a very simple way. Dark blond hair, dark blue eyes. Nothing out of the ordinary. Vaguely, she wondered if he had any tattoos—

That was a weird thought. Anyway.

"That's kind of you to offer but no thank you."

Masaru sighed heavily, dropping his head in defeat. "Aw, come on! Just one date wouldn't hurt."

She doubted that, she sincerely doubted that but didn't say as much. Instead, she looked back under the desk only to pause with a soft frown.

She forgot her shoes.

Well. Fuck. There goes her lucky streak. God, she hoped she wouldn't run into another stabbing victim. She only had so many shirts to go around. Clothes were fuckin' expensive.

Xin stifled a groan and rested her forehead on the edge of her desk for about ten seconds. When those ten seconds were up, she sat back up, shut her computer down and shoved her feet into her heels. This was a sign, a fuckin' ominous sign. She had to clock out before their manager cornered her ass to stick her with overtime.

Not today, not fuckin' today.

Masaru followed closely behind, still talking about some restaurant that he wanted to take her to. She wasn't sure if all men were this dense or if it was just him but good Lord. Regardless of his loud chattering, they both managed to clock out on time with no sight of the manager. Masaru continued to ramble on, something or another about that damn restaurant but she continued to tune him out as he opened the front door for her. At least he was somewhat thoughtful. Really, it was just so he could give her ass an appreciative once over. Pretty soon he'd be peeling her out of that skirt.

Xin was none the wiser, busily rooting around in her bag. It was obvious that she had the habit of forgetting things so she wanted to make sure she still had everything before leaving. She was cute, Masaru smiled but she wasn't all that bright. Eventually she'd get tired of playing hard to get and just give in. He just had to butter her up, impress her with some fine dining. Something she wasn't used to. He could do that, he could—

Masaru paused suddenly, face pinching in confusion. A shiny black car was parked in front of their office building, ridiculously expensive looking and clearly out of place. The neighborhood wasn't the bottom of the barrel or anything, more so middle-class like but that car clearly didn't belong.

However nice the car was—and it was really nice—it was the man leaning against its hood that really stopped Masaru dead in his tracks. He was built impressively with strong shoulders and powerful arms, tan skin covered in brilliant ink that crawled up his neck. His red hair was tousled in a way that seemed effortlessly but was probably the opposite.

And he was staring at them.

He titled his head down, sliding the dark sunglasses down his nose to reveal intense green eyes. Masaru cringed and reached for Xin. The little idiot remained oblivious, her attention still focused on her bag. "Let's go, Xin." He grabbed her by the elbow.

"Unn?" Xin grunted, finally looking up. They were coworkers, not friends and she hardly even liked him enough at that. "Shibata-san, you shouldn't call me that—oh."

Right, she finally noticed the intimidating redhead so now they could get the fuck

"Sabaku-san!"

Wait, what?

She managed to somehow slip out of Masaru's grip, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. Instead, she went bounding up to the terrifying redhead, smiling jubilantly. "You're alive so that must mean I didn't indirectly cause you to die. Everything okay?"

What the fuck. What. The. Fuck.

The redhead laughed, he fuckin' laughed before peering down at Xin. Masaru was sure that she was going to get her head knocked off her shoulders, shame too because she's the prettiest thing he'd seen in a long time. Not to mention her stellar rack. A real shame. He glanced over her head, if only for a moment to access Masaru before deciding that he's clearly not a threat and dismissed Masaru all together.

Wow. Rude.

"Nah, you did fine, everything's fine."

Xin continued to smile despite the fact that she was within striking range of the redhead. Did she not understand who the fuck she was even talking to? Maybe not, since she was still relatively new to town. When the hell did she even meet him and how did that even come about?

"Finished with work, angelface?"

Oh, sure. He couldn't call her by her given name but tall, dark and murderer could use a pet-name?

She somehow bounced in her heels without breaking an ankle. "Yeah, no overtime for me today so I'm heading home now." She was really, really glad about that. Sure, she had to make that walk in heels again and she'd probably lose all feeling in her feet but it was totally fuckin' worth—

He pushed off of the hood of the car. "I'll give you a lift home."

"Oh." She squeaked like a startled cat. "No need, I couldn't trouble you like that."

He gave her a funny look considering all the trouble he caused her the night they met. Sort of. She still didn't even know his first name. "It's fine." He rounded the car and opened the door, motioning with one large hand to get in.

Xin hesitated, eyeing the car thoughtfully. She wasn't one to take handouts and she really didn't want to trouble him. But that walk though. In heels. God, her feet. "Well…" she trailed off.

"Get in the car, Xin."

Well…when he said it like that…

She turned, remembering that she had been walking out with Masaru. He was still standing by the front door of the office, watching them. "I'm heading home, Shibata-san! See you tomorrow." She waved energetically before turning back to the car.

Masaru waved back weakly, watching as she slid into the waiting car. Disappointed to see her snatched away, he did take the opportunity to ogle the living shit out of her thigh when her skirt inevitably rolled up her legs. Unfortunately for him, the redhead turned just in time to catch him in the act. He tilted his chin down again, green eyes flashing dangerously from behind his dark shades before he rounded the car. He vanished into the car with Xin, peeling off before Masaru could say a word.

What the fuck.


This was fundamentally not a good idea.

It wasn't a bad one…it just wasn't good either.

Which made little to no sense but this entire situation didn't really make much sense to him in the first place. The fact remained that after his night of not only getting stabbed—which happened more often than one would think—and meeting the strange Hyuga Xin, he still had shit to do.

Like, finding his way home to assure Kankuro and Temari that he wasn't dead, despite being gutted like a goddamn fish.

"There's a reason you were stabbed and it might have something to do with that attitude of yours."

That wasn't exactly a lie, he mused.

Still, even though he showed the stitched up wound, Temari insisted that he have a Doctor on their payroll access the damage. It looked like a pretty good job but what did any of them really know? Their Doctor was rightfully annoyed when she showed up, eyeing them with a crotchety distaste.

Chiyo eyed the stitches after ruthlessly snatching the bandage off. She was clearly in a mood. Her mouth twitched, wrinkled lips pursing in thought. "Well, whatever Doctor stitched this did a bang up job."

"I'm not a Doctor."

His older sister leaned over, staring at the stitches with a critical look. "You're sure?"

Chiyo threw her a look, clearly offended that the blonde would question her judgment. She'd been in this business longer than any of them had been alive. She knew a bad job when she saw it and this was not a bad job. "I'm positive, Temari. Your brother isn't going to bleed out. At least," she eyed the redhead. "Not today."

"Fantastic," Gaara said drolly.

Chiyo only shook her head and retapped the wound. "I'm sure you know not to overdo it, don't you?"

"I was warned not to do anything strenuous."

And he didn't do anything strenuous after that, just like he promised. In fact, the most strenuous thing he'd done was hunting the mothefucker down that stabbed him in the first place, breaking the fingers of his left hand and completely chopping off the fingers of his right hand.

But he couldn't help thinking of Xin. She insisted that she wasn't a Doctor, which was obvious by the way she was living, but sewed him back up with ease. Either she was a fraud ass Doctor or she studied to be a Doctor. Maybe she gave up and dropped out.

So he made the questionable choice to do some…digging. It wasn't anything extensive. Just…her name, which wasn't bad since he already knew that, her age and her occupation. Hyuga Xin was a twenty-three year old office lady. Maybe he was thinking too hard about it. She could just be talented at stitching people back together. Everyone had their talents and hobbies. Hers could very well be stitches. Odd choice but hers nonetheless and he wasn't one to judge, given his own seedy background.

But still….

In the oncoming weeks of letting his side heal, random thoughts of Xin randomly popped into his head. Nothing of the romantic sort, just more unanswered questions. Maybe that's why one sunny afternoon, he found himself just outside her office building. He'd driven past it every now and then, coincidentally, of course but never caught sight of her.

Until today.

Dressed like she'd been the day they met, another man guided her outside. He was babbling cheerfully but she was busily digging through her bag, ignoring him. And that was basically how Xin ended up in his car. It was silent for several minutes but that wasn't surprising given the fact that they hardly knew each other. It didn't last long and Gaara would soon find out that a silent Xin was a rarity.

"You owe me a new blouse."

He glanced at but she was staring out of the window. "A new blouse?"

"Yes, a new blouse. Preferably a silky one, if it's not too much trouble. White. I'm a medium."

"And why do I owe you a new blouse?"

She whipped around to face him then, eyes a little crazy. "Because you bled on my silk blouse. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out? Very!"

He blinked at her, caught off guard before his eyes returned to the road. "I didn't ask you to drag me into your apartment."

"Drag? You think I dragged your big ass into my apartment?"

"Didn't you?"

"You know what, you're ungrateful. I still want my goddamn shirt."

He didn't have an immediate reply, a slow smile threatening at the edge of his mouth. "Can't you just buy a new one yourself?"

Her mouth fell open and she gasped, drawing back with a hand at her throat. "Buy a new one? You think yen just grows on trees, don't you?"

"Of course not but how expensive could a blouse be?"

"Very expensive. It's silk."

"Ah, you don't want to spend your money so you're blackmailing me instead."

"That is…" she trailed off, trying to remain offended. "..mostly true." She had the nerve to blush. "But it's not blackmail because it's true. You ruined my shirt with all your goddamn blood."

"It is blackmail despite the truth," he laughed. "And I'm so sorry for getting all my pesky blood all over you. If only there wasn't a gaping hole in my side."

"A gaping hole that I sewed up."

"So your reward for that is a new silky blouse."

"Now you're getting it."

She seemed satisfied with herself, grinning gleefully before turning back towards the window. This wasn't the way she usually took to get home. He was driving through downtown Tokyo, cutting her commute time in half. If she were a little brighter, she'd wonder how in the hell he knew how to get to her apartment after only being there once.

Hell, how had he ended up outside her job?

Those were the type of questions she should have been wondering about. Instead, she was enamored with the glamor of downtown Tokyo. It was a bustling hum of energy, lights and movement. It was different than what she was used to, what she grew up with and even now. The only stops she ever made after work, when she had the time, were for pure necessities. She rarely ever strayed from her routine, splurging only on secondhand books or an expensive blouse. An expensive blouse that was now ruined with blood but whatever. The point that she was trying to make was that she never had the opportunity to explore Tokyo for what it was.

Maybe in another six months…when she was sure everything was fine, maybe then she could start living like a normal person again.

That would just be fuckin' grand, wouldn't it?

Before long, they came to a slow stop in front of her apartment building. She knew that her apartment wasn't all that great and neither was the neighborhood but she was proud of herself, at least. It was something she'd done completely on her own with no help from her parents or her sisters. Sure, it was shitty but it was her shitty apartment and that's all that mattered for the time being.

Xin climbed out of the car but paused, leaning down to peer into it. "Thank you for the ride home, I really appreciate it," she said with a charming smile. Seriously, now she wouldn't have to soak her feet in epsom salt for an hour. "And, uh—erm..about the shirt. I was just joking."

He eyed her for a minute before leaning over, resting his elbow on the center console with an amused twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, really? You sounded passionate about that silky shirt of yours."

She made a face, a little embarrassed that she ranted and raved over a shirt. It seemed juvenile, she realized, to fuss and fight over a shirt. He didn't realize that it was such a big deal to her, to spend that kind of money on just a shirt—he clearly wasn't strapped for cash—and it really wasn't his fault about the blood. "Sometimes I get like that but there's no need," she pressed. She wasn't one to really take any handouts anyway. If she couldn't get it herself then she really didn't need it. Her parents wouldn't mind if she sent a little less the next time payday came around. "But thank you for the ride, really. Stay out of trouble, yeah?"

He snorted, realizing that she would never let the fact go that he'd been stabbed. That gave him pause. That made it sound like he planned on having some sort of relationship with her. That wasn't…good. "You're welcome, angelface. How about you stay out of trouble? No more dragging men into your house late at night, yeah?"

She straightened up with a red face. She wasn't sure if it was his suggestion that flustered her or the use of a nickname. "I can't help it if a person needs help, especially if I know I can do something about it."

"It's not a bad thing," he shrugged casually. "Not everyone's good like you. Just remember that."

That made Xin frown because it was true. She knew it was true but she still couldn't help herself. She liked helping people, she always liked it and now she couldn't even really do it as often as she used to. It was frustrating, she sometimes thought, angry where she ended up but it was her fault and at least she was actively trying to do something about it. Even if that meant she had to leave her little town behind, her parents and sisters included.

She should call them today, it's been a couple weeks since she talked to them. The conversations with her parents were still a little stilted but her sisters were always happy to hear from her.

"Uh, well, I'm glad you think I'm such a good person," she replied after a minute of letting her mind wander. "Stay safe, Sabaku-san." She turned then and disappeared into the apartment without a backwards glance.

It occurred to her an hour later that she still didn't know his first name.


Masaru was at a loss for words the next morning. He didn't expect to see Xin walk in, alive and breathing and noticeably not dead in a ditch somewhere. His shock at seeing her was obvious because she frowned at him, tilting her head to the side as she sat down in front of her computer. "What?"

"You aren't dead."

She wasn't expecting that sort of statement, squinting up at him as he continued to peer down at her. "Maybe not physically. Why would you think I'd be dead?"

"Because you got into that car."

"...So?"

"You were alone. With him."

She leaned over with a soft laugh and booted up her computer. She probably had about a million emails and it was only eight o'clock. She didn't have time to fuck around with Masaru and play these stupid games with him. "So?"

Masaru made a strangled noise in his throat and hung his head. God, this woman was a fuckin' moron. The fact that she was so attractive made up for it but Jesus Christ in a handbag. Well, maybe that wasn't fair to automatically call her a moron, she wasn't from Tokyo, if he remembered correctly. She might've said where she was from, he couldn't remember but she definitely wasn't from Tokyo. "You're not from around here," he said around a sigh as Xin read through her emails. Not as much as she thought it would be, maybe since the workweek was over. "So you wouldn't know."

"Know what?"

"He's the head of a Yakuza family."

Xin didn't immediately react, still staring at the computer screen before the words sank in. A slow smile crept across her face, a giggle following shortly after. "Yakuza? What, like the movies?" She scoffed, glancing up at him with a look of sarcastic disbelief on her face.

Fuck, she was a moron.

"No, like in real life. He's the head of a crime syndicate. He commits crime for a living," Masaru ran an exasperated hand down his face. She was hot, he reminded himself, she was hot and he wanted to see her without any clothes on and calling her a moron to her face would probably lose points. "Why would you get into his car?"

She made a face and wondered why he was so dead set on questioning her choices. She didn't owe him an explanation, she didn't even owe him her time. Still, she knew better than to be her typical brash self. "He offered me a ride home, I didn't see the harm in it."

"What if he pulled a gun on you?" Masaru hissed.

"Why on Earth would he do that?"

"Because he's a murderer."

That has yet to be proven, she thought wryly but it was probably true. She wasn't sure, it's not like she knew the man. She didn't even know his name. "Oh," she puckered her lips in realization. "You probably know his name then? What is it?"

Masaru stared back at her, realizing that the revelation that she knew a crime lord didn't seem to bother her. "It's Gaara. You got into his car and you didn't even know his name?"

"He only gave me his last name."

"No surprise there. He probably didn't want you to find out his identity."

Xin sweveled casually in her seat, eyes returning to the screen. "It's not a big deal, I guess."

"It kind of is, Hyuga. What if he did something to you?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know, rape, torture and then murder you?"

Now that was just ridiculous. If Sabaku—Gaara wanted to do something like that to her, he would've already done something. He'd been in her apartment, knew how to get there without her directions and knew where she worked. If he had some nefarious plans for her, she wouldn't be sitting there doing office work. "I think you're overreacting a little bit," she mused with a laugh. "I don't know if he partakes in those particular actions but he's been pretty nice to me so far." Sure, he'd been a little snarky to her but she gave it right back. Wouldn't he have her killed if he was offended? If he was this big bad crime lord like Masaru said, that was his business. She wasn't anyone to pass judgement on his way of living, legal or not.

Besides, it wasn't like she'd see the man ever again. After their first encounter, she pretty much put him out of her mind. He hadn't crossed her mind until she spotted him sitting outside of her job yesterday.

"You are far too good, Hyuga."

He didn't mean it as a compliment.


Xin forgot her shoes again.

She stared down beneath her desk with a blank expression, eyes blinking every so often. This was a sign, she decided. After not forgetting her shoes for these past few weeks, she suddenly forgot them two days in a row. Not once but twice. Twice. It had to be a sign of something coming down the line. "Oh, God," she whispered tightly. "It's overtime, isn't it? They're gonna stick me with overtime today. On a Friday. Before the weekend. Fuck, fuck, fuck." Hastily, like someone lit her ass on fire, she shoved her feet into her heels. She shut her computer down and quickly jumped up, snatching her bag on the way.

"Oi, Hyuga, wait up," Masaru jogged after her. "Got somewhere to be? You're rushing out of here."

She glanced around, punching out with quick stabs of her finger. "No, not really."

"Really? Because—Jeez, don't tell me you're meeting with that Yakuza again, are you?"

Xin's expression hardly changed, her eyes still darting all over the place. "Yakuza? Oh, you mean Gaara?" Saying his name felt a little different, a little strange. Maybe she didn't have the right to just his name like they were friends. Then again, he used her name when he told her to get into the car. And she hadn't corrected him. "I don't plan on meeting with him."

He didn't believe her, not entirely but it's not like she'd called or texted anyone today. Unless they made plans yesterday to meet up again. "Okay, well, if that's the case," he grinned as he began walking her out. "How about a date then? It's a Friday night and we're off tomorrow. How about we go get some drinks?"

Ah, of course. She almost forgot about his daily attempts to get her to go out on a date with him. Why he was so insistent on taking her out was beyond her. They got along well enough, she guessed but that was mostly on her part. She made a conscious attempt not to curse him out each and every day when he got on her last nerve.

"No, thank you." Polite as always, that still wouldn't stop his needling.

"Aw, come on, Hyuga! I've been asking for six months straight and you always turn me down!"

"Because I don't want to go on dates, Shibata."

"Why not?"

She paused right before opening the door, frowning tightly. "I don't have to give you a reason," she snapped. "I said no, that's enough, isn't it?"

He raised his eyebrows, a little caught off guard by her sudden viciousness. "Woah, there, Princess. I didn't mean to offend you or anything. No need for the attitude."

Xin sighed with a heavy slump of her shoulders. "Don't call me Princess," she muttered, annoyed with the nickname. "I'm not offended or anything. I just…I don't want to go out on any dates. I'm not looking for any boyfriends or anything like that."

Masaru pouted. "We don't have to be together to enjoy each other's company, Xin."

Disgust filled her but she made sure her expression was blank when she turned to look at him. "No thanks." Her tight frown morphed into a tight smile. She expected that to be it, the end of the conversation and their work relationship. But it wasn't.

Of course it wasn't.

Masaru continued on as if she hadn't basically told him to fuck off, politely mind you. She wasn't sure what the hell was wrong with this man but at least he wasn't trying to choke her out for rejecting him. Still, that only meant he might choke her for the rejection another day. Xin idly rubbed her throat.

"—and they make the best sushi—"

She was hardly listening, stuck in her head with memories that she tried to bury. God, she wished he'd shut the fuck up already. The old her, the Xin before, would've told him to do just that. She was a hotheaded brash thing. Before. But things were different and she wouldn't make the same mistakes that landed her in a city all by her lonesome.

"And—oh." Masaru's irritating ramblings came to an abrupt halt. "Why's he here again? I thought you said he wouldn't be here again." He sounded like he was accusing her of something.

Xin glanced up, eyes blank but she came to a short pause as well. Just like yesterday, Gaara was sitting idly outside, resting casually against the hood of his car. "I don't know why he's back."

"You said you weren't meeting with him." He was definitely accusing her of something. He reached for her wrist, his fingers squeezing. "What's he doing here?"

Immediately, Xin snatched her hand away, holding it to her chest as if he'd burned her. She was frowning again, almost angrily but definitely alarmed. "Don't do that," she hissed. "I already said I don't know—"

"He's here for you."

"I didn't tell him to come here."

"So what's he doing here?"

What the fuck—did he not hear her the first time? How was she supposed to know why another grown ass man did what he wanted to do? Did he think she summoned him here with her fuckin' mind or something?

Xin nearly stormed towards Gaara, nervous energy bouncing off of her. He wasn't looking at her, head tilted to the side as his gaze overlooked the top of her head. His expression was mostly blank though there was something thoughtful in his eyes, something she couldn't quite understand. Not yet, at least. She stopped in front of him. "Um," she cleared her throat and his eyes dropped to hers. "Hello. I wasn't expecting to see you." Today. Here. Ever again.

He offered a small smile. "I was in the neighborhood." He was so not.

"And you dropped by to say hello?"

"Maybe."

His evasive answer caused her to drop her frosty expression, her signature grin replacing it. It was almost like she couldn't help it. "Well, I'm not hearing a 'hello'!"

"Hello, Xin."

Her eyes were bright. "Hello, Gaara."


TeeBeMe: It's 3AM, I finished editing this document on my phone just for it not to show up anywhere. I had to get my fat ass out of bed, turn my laptop on and redo everything. Real tears, real pain. Send help. Or reviews. I'm not picky but I am needy lol.