The Truth About Fire and Ashes
A/N: I'm sorry. My wrist was sprained badly on Saturday, went to E.R and got Express care (and by express care I mean two hours of waiting) and I just got the splint off today, so it was extremely hard and slow to type it one hand. Also, the computer I usually update from broke, so...this chapter is probably going to be shorter than most.
Ch. 2
For the first few days of fixing up Gaara's house, Sakura didn't see him unless she traveled to the roof to bring him a dish she made from the food sand seemed to drop off from a paper bag. On the fourth day, however, she was reaching for some nails when she jumped, seeing him sit in the corner with the most blank, cold look attributing to his features.
She stuttered, her mouth twitching itself into a small smile. Keeping her focus on construction seemed to be easier on her emotional state of mind, overcoming thoughts of him and homesickness of Kohona. She'd go to bed tired, much to tired for anxiety to plague her mind, and wake up with the same routine.
Sakura could say she almost felt proud of herself.
He blinked, his eyes absorbing his new kitchen. Placidly, he looked back at her, her pale skin stained with bandages, mostly around her fingers. Atleast she wasn't trembling. But Gaara was unsure if that was a good or bad thing.
He decided, simply, to watch her from a good distance. That way, he could determine if she was really setting traps in here, or planning an escape route. He also was puzzled as to her motive, why she would try and as she put it.
The girl looked at him a moment longer, before picking up the nail between her slender fingers and applying it to the cupboard she was sitting on his counter to reach.
His arms crossed, eyes narrowing. Her hands were clumsy, clearly not used to this work, and it was plainly obvious the hammer was going to miss it's target. He blinked again, and before she could cry out sand had established itself around the gleaming tool firmly, frozen above her other hand.
Now she was shaking as she looked at him, unsure of what to think. He felt his own frown deepen.
It would've hurt. His words stuck in the air, almost stinging it like a burn created from ice.
She glanced at the hammer, hesitating, for she had let it go.
Take it.
She grasped it again, and the sand fell from it's spellbound, pooling like a puddle on the counter. They didn't say another word to the other the whole day.
The next morning, however, Sakura considered that he had something for a heart in that impenetrable body of his. Especially since, even how cold his eyes looked, something wavered there that made something stir within her.
Perhaps she could try to actually talk to him.
So she attempted, as she worked on the beginning of the holes in the hallway.
He was watching her from the table, the sand arcing about his arms and hissing like a great serpent. She didn't particularly enjoy the feel of his eyes on her, but she was very much afraid of saying anything that may...upset him.
He replied immediately, than looked away as she turned to look at him.
As hard as she tried, she couldn't find something to talk about. Temari, she seems nice. She's coming in two days, if she's on time. Not hearing a response, she placed a board on the wall, measuring precisely. She's your sister, right?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his eyes flick pensively to their charcoal corners. Unknown to her, her voice was wavering, as if still in perilous fear.
I never grew up with brothers or sisters...I am lucky enough to have parents, though. They always treat me like a little kid, but I guess...I'm lucky, in a lot of ways. You remember Naruto, right?
Her question was acknowledged with the slightest nod she missed.
He...he hasn't had any parents at all. I don't know what that is like, I won't for awhile, and at first, I thought he was luckier than I. Pausing to sigh, Sakura did need someone to atleast listen to her. It had seemed whatever she did say, didn't seem to matter much. She hated that. And she, like a normal person would, grew lonely and dreaded the thick silence that dripped everywhere.
But I was wrong then. At the time, he didn't have anyone to tell him how or where or why. He didn't have someone to love or... Sasuke's words rang through her ears. Or to even hate. Even...even hatred is betting than having nothing. Because atleast then...you have something to hold onto, right?
She turned and met Gaara's eyes, her own dancing back and forth, face flushed. Hoping for some sort of response, her hand tightened around a thin, rough board in her hand.
Her question was acknowledged with the slightest nod, one she didn't miss, his face turning sour as he looked away. Turning away herself, she smiled a bit as she bent down to pick up a few nails. She failed to see his forehead wrinkle in what some may call anger, the direction unknownst to anyone.
You probably think I'm just in the way, like everyone else, right?
Gaara considered. He didn't mind watching her, a whirlwind of life and emotions, and he didn't mind the food she made. She was weak, so she wouldn't be hindrance to him, save for the fact he had to restrain around her. Her voice...her talking...was strange, how she'd want to talk to him at all when she was so afraid.
The only thing that confused him, was how she could not be a burden to him.
His eyes tore their gaze from her back, something that was gradually getting more difficult.
He didn't answer her.
She hammered in a nail and continued,
Did you know I had a friend back home? I wouldn't call her a friend though...more like a rival. Lee-san is nice to me...Shikamaru is okay...Kakashi-sensei was my first teacher, but he seemed more like a father, as weird as that sounds...
This became a sort of routine for them. Sakura would work, Gaara would watch from a distance and listen to whatever she mused about. He would always eat alone, though.
Temari came one morning, rushing out of the door in embarrassment because she thought she was in a different apartment. Then, checking the number, she peered inside, to hear talking upstairs.
-So whenever we'd go on a mission, Naruto would always try to look at Kakashi-Sensei's book. I didn't even want to look, really...
Temari rushed up the steps, it must've been really bad if the girl was talking to herself. Losing her mind so quickly-
Suddenly she got a face full of sand, and stumbling back, blinking, she realized Gaara was leaning against the wall, hands crossed across his chest. Frantically, she looked over at the girl, who was painting the wall, mouth agape and as shocked as the sand sibling was.
Gaara left by the time Sakura explained everything, the only trace of him ever being there was the sand that lay in small piles around, rippling with every vibration like some alien water.
Tch, anyway, the Hokage advised that you stay here, and in an unspecified time passage will send someone else to stay here, as an attack is being planned-
On Sasuke! Sakura cried, the paintbrush clutched close to her chest.
And from the kitchen, Gaara's eyes narrowed in spite.
Night came, and as Sakura lay in bed, she heard footsteps. Knowing Gaara didn't sleep, she cracked her door open to make out his outline in the darkness. He was mumbling something, and hunched over. And she could've sworn she heard Sasuke under his breath. But not having time to think, his outline morphed and he yelled something incoherent.
Sakura slammed the door shut, cowering on the ground. She heard more sickly yells and heard things tear and break under forces like toothpicks.
And she could only gaze out the window at the incompassionate half moon, afraid to do anything at all.
Even hatred is better than nothing. Atleast then, you have something to hold onto, right?
Remembering her own words from earlier, Sakura's eyes squeezed shut, knawing her lip as something else was destroyed. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't scream. Her voice was lost amongst the fear and the demon just outside her door.
Without her voice, somehow, she stood on legs that wobbled. Maybe, even without her voice, he would listen.
Charging out the door that banged against the wall with a deafening thud, immediately he looked at her, a looming monster with evil, terrifying eyes.
And somehow, even after her world went blacker than night, she still saw their golden hue.