AN: Heya! Back from the dead again. Here's Chapter 9 for you. Some NSFW-ish stuff in this one, but nothing outrageous. Yet.


Chapter 9: Cherries

The prospect of family never interested Gaara.

The more people you had in your life, the more complicated it became.

But as much as he tried not to care about everyday domesticity, it seemed to haunt him anyway. Naruto's loudmouthed optimism was infectious, and there was hardly a night when their college flat wasn't filled with his friends. Gaara didn't quite know how it happened, but somehow, they became his friends, too. Instead of hiding out in his room and drinking himself to sleep, he spent evenings after work lamenting adulthood with Kiba or watching action movies with Naruto and Lee.

But of all the nightly visitors, Gaara looked forward to Sakura the most. In the beginning he mostly pretended to hate it, but eventually they fell into a rhythm of their own. When everyone went home for the night, they would stay together and chat shit. He liked to listen to her voice – the way it went high and fast when talked about judo or new clinical studies, and the sultry low tones that came when she drank a little too much.

He liked her, and for whatever reason, she seemed to like him too. It wasn't embarrassing to talk to her about plants or his lack of desire to be a corporate slave. Sakura might pinch and joke and tease, but she always listened. No judgement.

Gaara knew it was partly a crush. He found Sakura attractive, and she was the only woman who paid him any real attention, even if it was due her own neglect. However, like most of his emotions, it was something to be kept firmly tamped down. The teasing and touching and wildness of the apartment was fun, but outside those four walls, fun couldn't last forever.

"Well, well, well, Mr. Scholar." Sakura's voice entered the bedroom. "Top of your class, I heard. Sasuke was pissed."

"Whatever." Gaara didn't look up but could only barley conceal a smirk. There was something smugly satisfying about knowing he'd eclipsed Sasuke in the Finance department class rank.

"Oh, don't act like you don't love it."

The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut made Gaara lift his head, and as soon as he saw Sakura, he swallowed his gum.

It was an outfit he'd never seen before – a dress that looked more like lingerie than anything – thin straps, a low cut, and shimmery silk that somehow managed to scream sex without clinging to her body.

She did a slow, full turn, grinning. "You like?"

"You look…different." Gaara leaned back in his chair and tried his best to look casual. Sakura laughed.

"I think you mean hot. I look hot." She used both hands to fluff her hair. Gaara usually saw it up in a messy ponytail or bun, but now it fell in shiny, beachy waves down her back.

The word 'hot' was too simple. A little vulgar, even. What he meant was gorgeous.

Still, Gaara refused to be goaded into giving compliments. He shrugged. "You clean up well, I guess."

"Asshole." Sakura stepped out of her heels and kicked her leg out to strike him in the shoulder, but Gaara was faster. He caught her foot in both hands and held tight. It wasn't as dainty as he expected. Her soles were calloused, and her toenails donned chipped teal polish.

"Ditz," he shot back. Laughing, Sakura hopped forward until she could safely plop herself down onto his desk. Once she was safely seated, Gaara released his hold.

"You know, it's not too late for you to come tonight," she said once she'd calmed herself. "I'll save you a dance."

Gaara scoffed. "You really think I'd be caught dead at something like that?"

Though there was something enticing about the thought of her in his arms, in that dress, it was the notion of others around – seeing him soft – that made Gaara uneasy.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "It's for charity. Research for little kids with cancer. Are you really that cold-hearted?"

She pushed her lips into a pout, and Gaara swore she did it not only out of petulance, but to drive him crazy. As usual lately, a problematic urge to kiss her surfaced, and he turned back to his book to try and stifle it.

"Cold as ice."

"Is it because you can't dance? I bet that's the real reason."

Sakura chuckled and from his periphery, Gaara watched her swing her legs back and forth. The gold silk of her dress crept up with each little move, higher and higher up her thigh. He reached into his drawer, pulled out a half-empty pack of Nicorette, and popped one of the pieces into his mouth.

God, he missed smoking.

"Get off my desk."

"I could teach you, you know." She leaned over and extended a hand. "Try me."

"I said

"Oh come on…" Sakura pouted again and he could feel something inside him start to shift. Her red lips quirked up at the edges – little by little – and then bloomed into a toothy grin.

"Pretty please…"

Gaara sighed. Who was he kidding? When she smiled like that, he could never deny her anything.

He let Sakura drag him to his feet. "Step on my toes and we're done."

"Good boy." She murmured close to his ear, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Hand here, and this one here." Sakura gently guided his hand on her hip, and then laced the other with hers. He could feel callouses on the pads of her fingertips and the backs of her knuckles, probably from judo, maybe from punching Sasuke. He hoped from punching Sasuke.

"What do you think you'll do after graduation?" she asked as they moved together in the small empty space between his bed and desk. She took control as usual, guiding his steps past piles of books and empty moving boxes.

"I…don't know. Grad school? MBA?" He looked up from their feet to see Sakura smirking back at him.

"Grad school? Puh-lease. Not without me nagging you."

He smiled. "So you admit you're a nag?"

Sakura frowned and turned her head to look at the cactus above his bead. "You should do something with plants. You're so talented with them. Sakura Two's looking amazing, as usual."

"Sakura Two?" Gaara raised a brow.

"Oh yeah. You've gotta name your houseplants, dummy," she said, and for a moment looked wistful.

Her father liked plants, too, he remembered. Her dead father.

Gaara gave her hip a gentle squeeze. "You should take it home and care for it."

Sakura shook her head. "I can't keep anything alive. She's better off with you."

Probably, he thought, but then shrugged. He could hardly pay attention to anything she was saying when her hips were swaying against his.

"It would be great if we could keep doing this forever," Sakura said.

"Doing what?" Gaara studied her face. Though he liked when she didn't wear makeup, there was something special about the extra bit of colour on her eyelids and cheeks.

"You know, this." She shrugged her shoulders to gesture at the space around them. "After this year, we're real adults. Naruto's probably going to move in with Hinata, and Sasuke and I…"

Sakura trailed off, and again, Gaara tightened up his hold on her.

"Yeah?" he pressed. Sakura stopped her feet and pulled back a bit to see his face.

"We'll move in together, too. He wants to buy another place in Azabu." Her eyes searched his, as if looking for approval.

Gaara just raised his brows. "Fancy."

"I'll have you over all the time, though," she added with a grin. "Knowing Sasuke, it'll be massive. So you can keep me from killing the plants I need to fill the space."

"You really think he'd like me being around?" he asked, but already knew the answer.

"Why wouldn't he?" Sakura laid her head to rest against Gaara's shoulder, and when her chest pressed to his he could feel her heartbeat. "You're my friend, so he should be your friend too."

Gaara wanted to tell her off but bit his tongue. She was so sensitive about Sasuke, and no amount of chiding from him would change that. In the end, she was right – they'd all be moving out soon and going their separate ways. Everyone else seemed to have plans with other people, and suddenly it felt like things were slipping away too fast.

"Listen, Sakura…I've been thinking." Tentatively, Gaara slid his hand down to the small of her back.

Her body felt different. Usually she was rail thin on some sort of smoothie diet, but over the past few weeks she seemed healthier – almost glowing. He didn't quite know what he wanted to say but holding her like that was chipping away at something inside him.

"Mm?"

"Are you really serious about…"

He hesitated and Sakura urged him on with a gentle smile.

"About?"

Gaara shook his head they moved together a little longer in silence until he finally had enough. Usually he would have hung in longer just for her touch, but there was something about the dress and the dance and the house in Azabu that got under his skin.

Sakura looked surprised when he dropped his arms from around her waist but then corrected the reaction with another sweet smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then. Don't wait up." She winked but hesitated when Gaara didn't look at her head on. "Gaara?"

"What?"

Sakura looked the most insecure he'd ever seen her then, holding onto the door frame with both hands, her body half in and out of his space.

"It's like I said. If you change your mind…" She paused to slip back into her heels. "I'll save you a dance."


It was after 3 in the morning when she showed up again. This time, in his bed. A subtle warmth on his back. Teasing there at first, then lower, caressing his chest, his tummy, the soft red hairs leading a trail into his boxers.

"Gaara wake up." A soft voice murmured against his neck. "Dance with me."

"Sakura…" he moaned first, half asleep, but when the hand made contact with its target, nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Sakura!?"

Gaara fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp and saw her. Gold dress, beachy waves, eyes red rimmed from crying.

"Turn it off." Sakura curled against him, a pathetic, booze-scented tangle of arms and legs. "Let's go to bed."

Gaara ignored the plea, and instead forced her to sit up. "What did he do this time?" he growled.

They didn't usually talk about Sasuke, but there was something about how devastated she looked that made him seethe with anger.

"One…thing. I ask…asked him for this one fucking thing, and he couldn't even do it for me. Just like fucking show up."

For anyone else it was just a dance, but Gaara knew that for Sakura, it was everything. Sasuke might have ignored her and slept with other girls, but to show up with him on her arm in front of everyone would prove something. It would be her trump card.

"He's never going to show up for you, Sakura." Gaara put both hands on her shoulders in an attempt to stabilize her. "The sooner you realise that the better. He's not capable ofanything good."

"I just want him… to be like… fucking nice to me." She slumped into his chest. "All those other girls… I bet he's gentle. But with me it's always…he always…"

Gaara felt Sakura tremble against him, and he held her at arm's length to get a better look at her face. There was a sullenness he wasn't familiar with.

"What?" he pressed. "What does he do?"

Sakura slipped her arms around his neck and brought him back down on the mattress. "Nothing I don't deserve."

"I'll let you do it too," she said close to his face. Her breath reeked of alcohol. "Whatever you want."

"I'll get us some water." Gaara tried to push her away, but Sakura locked herself more firmly to his body.

"I don't want water." She nuzzled his neck. "And neither do you. You want… my tight, little—"

"I want you to fucking leave him!" Gaara shouted in her face.

Sakura stared back at him, her gaze glassy and unfocused. The quiet that settled between them was intense. He never raised his voice to her – to anyone.

'Don't hate me, don't hate me.'

For a moment Gaara thought she might cry – the way she usually did when things went wrong, but instead a slow smile stretched across her lips.

Sakura unwound her arms from his neck and dropped onto her back, giggling.

"Silly…" She nudged him with the heel of her foot. "You are so…fucking… silly. Where the fuck would I be without Sasuke?"

She stretched herself against his duvet and Gaara couldn't help but think about how good she looked in his bed. Like she belonged there. The dim glow of his lamp illuminated not only her body, but also the unpacked cardboard boxes littered around the room. They didn't have many months left together before school ended and they'd have to find their way out in the real world. Soon she would go off to a life with Sasuke – a life full of money and parties and things he couldn't ever imagine being able to give her.

Gaara never cared about any of that stuff before. He worked because he had to, and only studied because it gave him a place to stay. He wondered if it was the same for Sakura – if maybe the reason she clung to Sasuke was because she thought she had nothing better going.

'Idiot.'

"You could go anywhere." He stroked his hands up and down her arms. "Do anything."

"Or anyone," Sakura lifted a leg and slid it along his side. Gaara followed it with his gaze for a moment, but then lowered his mouth to kiss her calf. Sakura gasped out in surprise, but she shifted her hips on the bed, angling more of herself towards him.

"I fucking knew it." She bared her teeth in a Cheshire cat grin. "You fucking do want to fuck me."

He did. God, he did, but more than that, he wanted her to understand. She made him want to do things he'd never done before. Be good. Be soft. Be in love.

"You have no idea how perfect you are." He kissed again, a little higher, just above her knee. "You deserve to be treated with respect, Sakura."

The haughty smile on her lips faded. "Stop. Don't say that stuff."

"Why?" he demanded. "Because he won't?"

Sakura started to turn her face to the side, but Gaara caught it in one hand. He felt her breath coming a little harder and her chest rising and falling a little faster.

"You're smart," he continued, this time tasting a spot behind her ear. "…and caring." He punctuated each word with a kiss. "…and beautiful."

"Gaara don't—

His lips cut her short.

Instead of resisting the way he'd feared, Sakura parted her lips to let him taste her fully. A little sugary, but sharp with alcohol. Gaara moved one hand into her hair, the other holding her firm against the mattress. He'd never kissed anyone before, never really thought about it, but with her it felt like something he'd known how to do all his life.

When they broke for breath her eyes were doe wide.

"Shit. I really thought you'd taste like an ashtray."

"I'm trying to quit," he said, and there was a hint of bashfulness that Sakura rooted out right away.

"For me, huh?" She grinned and the tips of Gaara's ears pinkened.

"You're so fucking sweet." She reached up to cup his face in her hands. "Why the fuck are you so fucking sweet?"

This time she leaned in and moaned quietly when Gaara pressed his body into hers. He shifted her on the bed ungracefully – as if he were positioning a sack of flour – and kicked a pile of books to the side so that their bodies were in line. Her leg came up to wrap around his waist and suddenly it felt hot. Too hot.

Sakura's hands worked their way under his shirt, and Gaara's mind went wild with thoughts.

What were they doing? What did this mean? Would she be his girlfriend? What about Sasuke and Azabu? Did he even have a condom?

Her kind of touch was foreign to him – raw, intense. He was hard and everything about her felt so warm, so soft. Suddenly he could feel himself sweating, and when his hand trembled against the zipper on her dress, Sakura covered it with hers.

A tender smile crept over her lips. "Are you a virgin?"

A lump formed in Gaara's throat, but Sakura massaged it way with another kiss. Her eyes were sparkling again, this time with a hungry fascination.

"It's okay." She pushed up onto her elbows. "We'll go slow."

Gaara let her undress him.

Shirt first, then sweatpants, ignoring her little hiccups and giggles. Though she commanded him with her words, Gaara was the one to help steady her hips in his lap. He stared wide-eyed at the woman straddling him – a goddess in gold.

"Relax," she cooed. "Give me your hand."

When he didn't move right away, Sakura lifted his palm and nuzzled it against her cheek. Gaara watched in fascination she continued, kissing and nipping at his fingertips. When he brushed the tip of his thumb against her bottom lip, immediately, she opened her mouth to receive it. His breath quickened as soon as she started to suck him in, rolling her tongue over the rough pads of his fingertips, wetting them. He couldn't think – couldn't speak – could only wonder how it would feel to have those lips, that tongue, everywhere.

Once they were slick, she guided them down her body, under the hem of her dress, up between her thighs. Instead of the barrier of fabric he expected, Gaara felt warm, wet skin.

"Fuck. Sakura…"

He flexed his fingertips to sink in and she gasped.

"Gaara..."

Just as Sakura leaned in to capture his lips again, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed loud in the tiny apartment.

Naruto's drunken warble came shortly afterward. "Gaaaaraaaaaa! I'm wasted and staaaaaaaaaarving! Let's order takeout!"

"Don't be so loud, idiot," another voice grumbled. Deeper. Familiar. "Where is she?"

Sakura froze. Gaara watched her face pale, and something tick in her eyes as realisation set in. Desperate, Gaara removed his hand from between her thighs and caught her by the waist.

"Wait—he's drunk. He won't come in. We can just…"

"Fuck. Shit. He…he's gonna fucking murder me…" Sakura raked her hands through her hair and made a choked sound before wrenching away. The once heavy footsteps slowed, and she jumped down from the bed in a frantic huff.

Still half-hard, Gaara yanked on his sweats and shirt and followed as she threw open the bedroom door. He was just in time to watch her stumble into Naruto as he rounded the corner.

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto caught her with both hands and threw a smirk over his shoulder. "Told ya she'd be here." From the rosiness of his cheeks, Gaara could tell he was deep in the bottle as well, and oblivious to the tension surrounding him. To his right, Sasuke stood with his hands in his pockets. He was clearly sober, and looked sharp in a dark, tailored suit.

"Ran into this asshole on the way back." Naruto leaned against the wall, and Gaara could tell it was a last-ditch effort to keep from keeling over. "He was looking for you."

"Looking for me?" Sakura's eyes welled. "I was waiting there for hours, Sasuke! Alone! Like an idiot!"

"I had other things on my plate." He checked his watch. "I said I'd come. A shame you couldn't have waited."

Gaara locked eyes with Sasuke from across the room. He wasn't looking at Sakura anymore. Instead, he zeroed in on his face and after a moment, the open bedroom door behind him.

"Well…I felt sick. Had to… get, get home." Sakura mumbled.

Gaara watched her blink rapidly against the fluorescent hallway lighting. Her hair was a mess, the straps of her dress slipping down, her body swaying. He felt ashamed. Had he really been planning to sleep with her like that?

"You look healthy to me." Sasuke looked from Sakura's face to Gaara's, frowning. "Looks like you were having your own little party here."

Sakura's shoulders suddenly slumped, and she stepped forward to put distance between them. "I was locked out of the apartment. Gaara let me wait here. He was helping."

"Oh, I'm sure he was." Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her.

"Sasuke come on…" Naruto hiccupped. "Let's all go to bed. Or have a drink. Or… whatever."

"Sakura, you can stay here. You don't have to go." Gaara tried to reach for her, but she pulled both hands up to cover her chest.

Sasuke leaned in close to Sakura's face.

"Is that what you want?" He lifted both hands from his pockets and cupped her face.

From anyone else it might have seemed like an innocent touch, but when Gaara watched it, all he saw was the possibility of violence. Just as he was about to step in, Sakura grabbed onto Sasuke's arms with both hands.

"You're what I want." She squeezed him. "I would never leave you alone."

Instead of shrugging her off, Sasuke pulled Sakura strongly into a hug. Gaara felt helpless watching it – the way Sasuke stroked her back and murmured something inaudible against the crown of her head. He very rarely saw him give Sakura any affection, and for some reason it bothered him almost as much as the disrespect.

"Sakura, it's safe to stay here." Gaara tried again. "I'll take the couch and…"

Sasuke combed through Sakura's hair with his fingers, smoothing it gently into place behind her ears. It was like Gaara wasn't there anymore – like he didn't exist.

"I'm fine, Gaara." Sakura said, but when she turned to face him, her eyes were wet. "Thanks for the help."

"Yeah, thanks for all your help," Sasuke mocked and laced his fingers with Sakura's before leading them both outside.

The door slammed behind them and as if on cue, Naruto slumped to the floor in a drunken heap, leaving Gaara alone in the quiet.


Present Day


He couldn't get her out of his head.

One minute they were talking about convenience store croquettes and Sarada, and the next she was ready to strip for him. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her on the pink bedspread, hips angled towards the camera, teeth pressing down on her lower lip.

Though Gaara insisted she keep her clothes on, it was clear enough what her fingers were doing under the flimsy silk fabric of her shorts.

Slower.

Faster.

Two fingers- no, three.

Do you like it? Tell me.

Tell me.

Once he started, Gaara couldn't keep the words from spilling out. He wasn't usually concerned about taking charge when it came to sex, but there was something about her brave obedience that drove him wild.

He could hear her voice in his head. Moaning. Whimpering. Begging. And when she came close to orgasm, to see him.

It took everything in Gaara not to touch himself, and it was only by the grace of God he'd somehow managed to keep his tone level in reply.

"Not tonight," he'd said. "The next time we see each other, you'll take it in your mouth. On your knees."

"You pervert." Gaara put his head in his hands.

"What was that, Gaara-sama?" Yukata twirled in through the door to his office with a smile. Gaara slid his chair in close to the desk to hide himself from her.

"Nothing. I…" he rubbed his temple with one hand. "Just thinking about a phone call."

"Oh, okay. Well, Miss Shijima is coming by soon. She's preparing for your meeting on Monday with Uchiha-san and needs you to go over—."

"Sorry, what?"

Yukata cleared her throat and raised her voice. "I said she's preparing—!

"No." Gaara waved her off. "I mean I thought I sent a memo about cancelling that business as soon as possible. I recommended another firm I thought would be more suitable."

"Right. Well, your father cancelled that cancellation." Yukata hid her face with the clipboard. "Sorry Gaara-sama. He was actually really angry and…"

"Fuck." Gaara opened the emails on his laptop to see a message from his father, sent in the early hours of the morning. It was a forwarded appointment for a meeting with himself and Shijima.

Subject line: Control Yourself

"And Uchiha-san left a message with me, actually." Yukata pulled a piece of paper from the top of her clipboard. "He says he's 'very much looking to catch up after so long,' and he 'hopes you've been enjoying the cherries from Hokkaido, because they have a very short shelf life.'"

Gaara sat rigid at his desk. It was a thinly veiled threat if he'd ever heard one.

"Super nice of him to gift you cherries." Yukata slid the memo onto his desk with a smile. "Didn't know Hokkaido had a special kind."

Gaara thought of Sakura's face and how beautiful she'd looked in ecstasy. Suddenly, he was seeing that image again, but with Sasuke's hands wrapped tightly around her throat.

"Did he leave a number where I can reach him?" Gaara asked. The last thing he wanted was to speak to Sasuke directly, but it was long past the time to be a coward.

"Yes, of course." Yukata pulled another bit of paper from her pile and handed it over. "Direct line."

Gaara stared at the number for a moment before picking up his landline.

"Oh, you might want to wait," Yukata said. "Your sister's here."

"My sister?" Gaara was genuinely surprised.

Though Kankuro would pop in once a month or so – usually for a favour – Temari made it a point never to visit him at the office.

Something happened to her in adulthood. As children, she and Kankuro had been staunchly loyal to Rasa, but now she did everything to distance herself from Rasa. While Gaara assumed Kankuro still played the game for help financing his nightclubs, as soon as she was married, Temari refused any assistance at all. Of course, Gaara figured it was easier to divorce yourself from privilege when you'd already reaped most of the rewards.

"Mmhm." Yukata walked to the door and made a gesture to someone outside the door. Temari stepped in, dressed for work in a well-tailored cream suit, and matching heels.

"Is she new? She's very sweet." Temari smiled at Yukata's retreating form as she left them to talk.

"Yukata's been with me for years." Gaara reclined a little in his chair. "Is everything okay?"

"I should ask you that." Temari smirked. "You look exhausted."

"Long night." Gaara grabbed a piece of Nicorette gum from a pot on his desk and popped it in his mouth. It was yet another half-assed attempt at quitting, made even more difficult by the previous night's events.

"It still blows my mind that you work here, you know." she sighed and Gaara rolled his eyes. He could tell where the conversation was going and wasn't in the mood.

"Temari, I don't have time for this today."

She put her hands on her hips and moved around the office, taking in the lines of business awards and certificates on his shelves.

"I'm just saying." She gestured at the wall. "All this for him. After everything he's done to you?"

"You mean for me," Gaara corrected.

Temari turned on her heel to face him. With her makeup light and her hair down, she reminded Gaara of old photos he'd seen of his mother. He had to look away.

"You're his son," she snapped. "It's not enough for him to give you a stupid job. Let alone force you to break your back over it."

"Well we can't all marry into money, can we?" Gaara muttered.

When he looked up at her over his paperwork, Temari's face was red and her lips pressed together in a thin line.

It was a low blow. Gaara didn't have anything against Shikamaru – he liked him, really – but he was getting sick of Temari's self-righteousness.

He expected Temari to snap at him, but instead she let out a soft sigh.

"We have another appointment next week. I want you to come with us to a family session."

Gaara sighed. Again with the drama.

"Temari…" Gaara looked down at his phone to distract himself. "I can appreciate if you and Kankuro have unresolved issues, but I'm perfectly fine."

He couldn't begin to picture either one spilling their secrets to a therapist, but they weren't at all the siblings he remembered from childhood. Not the ones who taunted him when he wet himself after being locked in the hallway closet for hours or teamed up to tattle on him for any childhood misstep. They were different now, and so was he.

Gaara imagined the change happened somewhere around university, when the letters first started coming.

Senior year of college.

Mostly from Temari, but then eventually Kankuro as well. Postcards from vacations skiing in the alps, an invitation to a club opening, books about childhood trauma, occasional cash…

He didn't know how they managed to track him down, and back then he didn't care. Every card or trinket or check went promptly into the trash.

"You left for London for six months and you didn't even say goodbye." Temari leaned over his desk. "Not to me, or Kankuro, or Shikadai. He looks up to you so much."

Shikadai was Sarada's age, and that was the time when children formed strong impressions of the adults around them. There were things Gaara loved about being around kids, like holding them up to reach the high shelves and cleaning bruises and scrapes and letting them fall asleep in his lap. But the prospect of more than that was scary – of having a living being depend on you so eagerly. Without question.

Gaara didn't even like the responsibility of pets, let alone people.

"We threw that party and I swear if it wasn't for Sakura, you would have spent the entire night ignoring us." Temari looked tearful, and Gaara couldn't stand it. She was the oldest – the fierce one – she wasn't supposed to cry.

"Temari, what's this about all of a sudden?"

"I just worry about you," she said. "All the long hours and how you're never around. You haven't come by for dinner in ages."

"I don't like to impose. That's all." Gaara reassured her.

"You're family, Gaara. You could never impose."

Family. The word gave him a headache. He was perfectly fine in his own world, with as few personal obligations as possible.

"I'll try harder," he said, but when Temari didn't move away, raised a brow.

"Was there something else?"

"Yes. A favour." She pushed a bit of hair behind her ear. "Deidara has a showing next week and if I don't pin him today, I'm positive he'll end up on another bender. I know you're busy so usually I wouldn't ask, but Shika's with a client in the city and Kankuro always—"

"You need me to pick up Shikadai from summer club?" he finished.

Temari pressed her hands together in prayer. "Six o'clock. But only If it's not too much?"

"It's fine. I'll leave a little early."

"For once," she joked, but then squeezed his forearm. "I owe you one."

"You don't." He lifted her hand away. "We're family."


"You look funny today." Sarada yawned as Sakura adjusted the bike helmet strap under her chin.

"Funny?" She raised her bike seat and then stepped back to admire her old childhood transportation.

"Like that. All smiley," Sarada teased. "It's weird."

"You're so mean!" Sakura rapped on her daughter's helmet, then lifted her to sit in the wooden basket her mother had attached at the front. "All set?"

Sarada pouted and turned in the basket. "Why do I have to go to summer club? Why can't I come with you to work at the flower shop?"

Sakura's gaze softened. Sarada was used to spending the summer doing everything together. In the best of times, that meant running up charges on Sasuke's credit cards buying sweets and toys and designer clothing, but at the worst of times it was Sarada curled beside her while she slept off sedatives, staring into the TV set. They were in a new place now, and Sakura wanted Sarada to have her own life – with her own friends.

"You'll love summer club." Sakura kissed her cheek. "Inojin will be there! And you like him, don't you?"

"I do not like Inojin!"

"Since when?" Sakura frowned, but then smiled when she saw the slightest bit of blush on her daughter's cheeks. "Oh, I see. Okay. Well…Naruto's little boy Boruto will be there, and plenty of my friend's kids. I'm sure they're all lovely."

"What about Gaara's kids?" Sarada asked. The question was an innocent one but made Sakura pause.

"Gaara doesn't have children." She strapped on her own helmet and swung her leg over the bike. Though she tried to seem confident, suddenly her limbs felt like jelly. One mention of Gaara and all she could hear was the low timbre of his voice, gently coaxing her through to orgasm.

Ten years was a long time, and he certainly wasn't the same dour virgin she used to poke fun at.

"Why?" Sarada's voice brought her back to reality.

"You'd…have to ask him." She smoothed her hair back with both hands. "Not everyone wants children, Sarada."

Sakura looked towards the house. Her mother came into view in the doorway, a proud smile on her lips. Despite all the fussing and bad history, she liked to see her that way. As if everything was normal again.

"Have a good day, you two." Mebuki waved.

"You too, mom."

Sakura kicked off the ground and worked into a steady pedal on the sidewalk before merging onto the road. It was much different riding as an adult. When she was a kid, she'd take risks and push the limits of speed and strength. With Sarada as precious cargo, Sakura took each corner gently, stopped at every light, and signalled dutifully.

"Faster!" Sarada called from the front.

"Hold on with both hands!"

Sarada's laugh gave her a burst of energy. She shifted into a larger gear and pedalled hard until they were flying down the road together at top speed, bombing past the hospital and the recycling centre, only slowing as they approached the school gates.

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto waved from a line of other parents near the entrance of the gymnasium. She scanned the crowd to see Sai, Shikamaru, Choji, and others guiding their children through the gates. At the check-in desk were two faces she hadn't seen in years – her old Phys Ed. teachers, Guy and Kakashi.

"Sakura." Kakashi's eyes crinkled with mirth when he took her in. "Naruto mentioned you were back in town, but what a surprise."

"For me, too." Sakura folded her arms against her chest when she saw the familiar book, Icha Icha Paradise, tucked into the front of his jacket. "With all the porn and drinking, I totally would have thought you'd be dead by now."

She chuckled and Kakashi gave a dark smile. "Hey Guy, I think Sakura's really missed you."

"Of course she has!" Guy dropped his clipboard and before Sakura could manoeuvre away, strong-armed her into a bone breaking hug. "The Mighty Blossom was one of my favourite students! Always bursting with youthful charm!"

"Mighty Blossom?" Sarada unclipped her helmet and hopped out of the basket. "Who's that?"

"That's your mom," Kakashi reached down and ruffled her hair. "Sakura used to be a killer at fitness. Led the girls' judo team."

"Mom? Really?" Sarada looked up at her in awe.

"You have a lot to live up to, small one!" Guy lifted Sarada and tossed her in the air without warning. Though Sakura panicked, Sarada was filled with laughter.

"She looks just like him," Kakashi said once he'd checked a name off on their list. "Sasuke never seemed like the fatherly type, but you've really changed him, huh?"

"Me?" Sakura shook her head. "No, Sasuke's always wanted a big family."

Kakashi shrugged. "That certainly explains the generous yearly donations."

"Donations…" Sakura smiled, but tried not to look too clueless. "Of course."

"Naruto and Iruka wouldn't have been able to keep summer programs like these going without it. You'll have to tell Sasuke thanks."

Sakura looked past Kakashi to where Naruto was separating Boruto and Inojin. Right.

Guy checked off a name on the sheet and then shooed Sarada through the gates. "Go on through, Sarada-chan."

He turned to face Sakura. "We're planning to take some of the kids to some fireworks this evening, Mighty Blossom. If you can meet us back here at 6, we'll all walk together."

Though thrown by Kakashi's comment, the mention of fireworks momentarily eased Sakura's tension. Since she was with Sasuke, she hadn't indulged in the old family tradition at all.

"Yeah." She nodded, but her gaze drifted back through the gates to where Naruto waved both hands over his head at her, oblivious. "That sounds nice."


AN: Heavy on the flashback this chapter, but probably only two more chapters of it before hopefully everything clicks into place a little more.

Also, Sasuke is coming to get his cherries back. Yiiiiikes.

This story is filled with such a mix of messy people and I love it, but I think my next story will definitely be more fluffy Gaara x Sakura to wash away my angsty sins! lol!

Thank you for everyone leaving your lovely reviews. Hope you enjoy this!