PHANTOM OF THE SAND

Act 1: Scene 5

Things were all a blur when Sakura tried opening her eyes after the unexpected nap. She had to blink her eyes a few times before things even began to look normal again. She became vaguely aware of where she was and the dreamlike memory of the night prior wafted back into her head. Her fingertips instinctively held the cloak around her figure to shield against the breeze. Her eyes wandered to the shoreline where the boat had been pulled up onto the sand but no sign of her abductor was easily found.

Slowly she pulled herself to her feet and rubbed her forehead with one hand. The other, clasping at the cloak, suddenly reminded her that she had not been wearing a cloak last night. She looked down at it and studied the soft and warm texture between her fingers. Curiously, she even lifted it to smell the fabric. She recognized the garment as the very same thing her ghost had been wearing when she saw him. The existence of such an ordinary cloak over her shoulders – and the feeling of a very human hand grasping hers in the dark before – confirmed her feelings that this ghost was not a ghost at all.

The cloak didn't smell bad. It smelled a tiny bit heavy like a humid summer day, tinged with a light scent of sweat. Strange enough the very masculine smell comforted her as it was accompanied with the warmth and softness of the material. Without it she would have, no doubt, frozen while she slept.

But where was he now?

Did he abduct her only to abandon her? How silly would that be?

Reaching down she plucked off her bothersome dress shoes to pad around barefoot in the soft sand. The fire on the horizon told her it was close to sunrise so she must have not been out terribly long. Her eyes scanned the area before her and all around as she ventured forth. It was an island – and a small one at that – he couldn't have gotten too far, right?

She occasionally let her toes squeeze into the sand when she took a step. Sakura had always been rather fond of how soft sand was on her feet when she went to the beach. The more she thought about it, though, the more her memories turned uneasy. Sand. Sand…. Gaara of the Sand. In the beginning, sand really seemed like the most harmless thing in the world. The longer Sakura proceeded in her training to be a ninja the more she realized that just about anything could be manipulated and used as a deadly weapon.

But to be honest – she would have never thought of sand.

She could barely manipulate sand at all. Her sandcastles always fell apart or ended up looking like lumps of nothing. Truthfully, she'd gotten quite angry at it for being so darn obstinate and unwilling to work with her. But if there was anyone who sure hand a hang of the sand it was Gaara.

Idly she wondered how good he was at making sand castles. Then she laughed at herself for being so ridiculous. Gaara make sand castles? Right… Whenever that happened Sasuke would dance and sing "The Sound of Music" and Naruto would abandon his undying love for ramen.

Her random thoughts may have continued but they were interrupted by the sight of figure at the edge of the water where she was approaching. Inwardly, she felt some relief that he hadn't just left her there. She had the boat and all and could have gotten back, sure, but no one likes to know they'd been abandoned. She was unsure of how to approach him now. Her steps in the sand slowed as she drew closer.

Naturally, Gaara knew she had been approaching ages ago. Despite the fact he had a keen sense for chakras, the sand had warned him long in advance. He made no attempt to turn around and greet her. Sakura closed in on him and bit her lip, trying to figure out what to say. Good morning, maybe? For some reason that sounded a little ridiculous. Bombarding him with questions sounded the same.

Although Gaara could pre-empt just about anything those around him planned to do, the one thing he couldn't do was read minds. He knew that Sakura was standing near him saying nothing. What he didn't know is that she had fixated her attentions on the fact he was still wearing that Anbu mask of his. He was definitely human, she'd concluded, but why was he so familiar to her? She began to feel anxious about it, and her fingers were itching to find out.

Gaara's eyes narrowed a little at the sudden feeling of her unease. It wasn't just that. The unease was coupled with motion. She was apprehensive but she was moving towards him rather than away. Confused, he turned to confront her before she could get any closer.

And for once, Gaara was too little – too late.

Sakura's fingers, which had been reaching out to grasp the tie of his Anbu mask from the back, slid forward with his movement and flung the mask entirely off of his head. Suddenly, they were face to face at an extremely uncomfortable proximity. Both Gaara and Sakura's eyes widened and she stumbled a little into him. Instinctively, his hands flew up to catch her arms to keep her from falling entirely. He failed in keeping her at a safe distance - she was already up against him, her face mere inches from his.

For a few long seconds they were both silent in shock, Gaara's hands squeezing at Sakura's arms so much they began to hurt.

Then it all sank in.

"G…Gaara..!" Sakura sputtered.

Ruined. It was all ruined.

She KNOWS. She KNOWS who you ARE! She has to DIE!

Sand swelled up from the ground and wrapped itself around Sakura's body, tearing her from Gaara's hands. She yelped out at this and Gaara watched, regaining his dangerously calm posture as it began to engulf her. His eyes narrowed a moment, regarding her as though she had just betrayed him utterly.

Betrayed him.

Like Yashamaru did.

Sakura screamed as the sand began to tighten painfully around her limbs. The desert coffin – she'd seen it before – but now she was learning what it felt like.

"I hope you're happy," Gaara said as he looked up at her. "If you'd kept your hands to yourself you might have lived."

"G…Gaara," Sakura heaved, her vision blurring a little.

"This is what you get for trusting…. This is what I get…," he murmured the last bit to himself.

"Please… Stop..," she managed, trying to tense her muscles to keep the sand from crushing her body. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to know…"

His eyes lifted up again indifferently. "Well. Now you know…and I can't have that."

Why are you hesitating? Stop jabbering and CRUSH HER till she splatters all over the beach!

Gaara reached up and cradled his head a little bit. The sand loosened a little around Sakura as his concentration fell elsewhere, but not entirely.

"No…more…talk of darkness…" Gaara's head jerked in her direction, his expression a little wild. Sakura coughed a few times – her words coming weakly as she attempted to sing. "Forget these….wide eyed fears." Just as she'd hoped, the sand began to virtually melt around her with the tune, bringing her back to the ground on her knees. "I'm here…nothing can harm you…"

"Stop," Gaara said lowly.

"My words will warm and calm you…" she sang lightly, looking up at him from the ground.

"Shut up. NOW," he demanded.

"The music soothes you," she said instead. Gaara's furrowed brow rose up and he looked at her wide eyed again. "That's why you kept asking me to sing. You're calmer that way." Gaara regained his composure and looked out at the water quietly.

"Yes," he finally said in the most monotone voice he had. For a moment they stood like that, Gaara not daring to look at her and Sakura crouched on the sand beside him. She clutched his cloak around her a moment. He had not harmed her. He could have killed her long before – even while she slept, but instead he sheltered her and made sure she was warm. There was something different here…..and all the wheels in her intelligent head clicked together. It was the music all along. But why did he take her? Why listen to her of all people at the theatre? She wanted to ask…but….

"We should get back. They're going to wonder where you are," he murmured and stooped down to reclaim his mask before stalking towards the boat. Sakura watched him a moment. He didn't even turn to see if she was following, but he probably knew what she'd do. Coming to her feet, she cleared the rest of the unease from her lungs and moved after him.

Kind of odd to be following your kidnapper, she mused.

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Author's Note: Hmmm.. I was dying to write these scene for awhile XD. DUN DUN DUUUUN. I wonder if it should have been longer? Hm. Ah well! Yay, crazy Gaara o/