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Chapter Seventeen
His engrossment became her opportunity. Sakura realized this about Gaara the more late into the night it became. Hours came and went, and the boy did not tear away from his gourd, only moving to shuffle his position but always facing the big container instead of her. This action was troubling in the beginning, and she grew even more concern when he did not heed to Sakura's calls or questions regarding what it was he was exactly doing. The blame on the moon was evident in her eyes, but as time passed, she felt there was no immediate danger.
If anything his captivation on his sand canister was nothing more than innocent. Bizarre, odd, maybe even a little eerie, but the boy did not cause any type of uproar like Baki claimed he would. So, Sakura allowed Gaara his time. Perhaps this was therapeutic for him. Maybe it eased his soul embracing his gourd from time to time, whispering to it as if it was a living being maybe gave the boy opportunity to open up. Though, the young woman did have to admit something did bother her in the back of her mind.
'What did he mean by Mother is calling?' she kept asking herself.
She felt like she had gone back to the early days here, when Gaara had claimed that his mother did not like her. Had the word a different meaning in his mind, she wondered. Gaara, she learned, was a smart child. His brightness shined just in his basic understanding of things. So, for Sakura, she found the idea that his mother's death had not sunk in yet into the child's mind as baffling. Hell, Rasa had even mentioned that Gaara had been told about his mother's dieing feelings towards him. So, why was it he continued to claim to the rosette that he could hear his mother?
'Something psychological,' Sakura assumed at time.
His distraction led her around the room, picking up what small messes they had both made that she could. If the boy was distracted, and Sakura had no plans to sleep, she would take what opportunity she could take out of the moment without Gaara needing her watchful eye. She was glad to see he made no protest, or even acknowledged, when she shut and locked the windows back in place. Once her small chores were done, she sat herself in front of the table they often ate at in his room, contemplating what she should do next. She had three options, watch the boy with no distraction, continue on her small project she had been doing earlier in the kitchen, or read some of the books she had bought in the small store. At the thought of her last option, she berated herself.
'Why would I do anything else?' she asked herself.
It seemed it had been a long while since she took the time to consider the world around her. How very, very wrong it was that she was here in Suna, in the past, watching over a child who she clearly knew should be around the same age as her. A guilt ate at her then, why wasn't she prioritizing finding a way home? When did she allow Gaara's needs and care to distract her to the point where she hadn't looked for answers in days? What was even the point of her doing this? Gaara was a successful young man in the future. He didn't need any of her guidance. Who was also to say that anything that happened now would even matter? Whatever was happening to her now didn't necessarily mean it would carry on when she found her way back to her home, and time. There was still so many questions, so many possibilities. Was this just a waste, was she sacrificing finding a way home by sticking around with Gaara?
She tapped her fingers lightly on the table, deep in thought, and only looked up when she heard a small whimper escape from the boy. He didn't look to be distressed, just a small sound that had escaped him, and not long after his murmurs, and touches, to his gourd began once more. At the sight of just his back, and his red hair, another guilt ate at Sakura. Illusion or not, whether her guidance would help him or be lost when she found a way home, she realized she cared way too much now to just abandon him. There was no way she could run away in search for answers and leave the poor boy behind. Besides, who would be by his side if not her, she wondered. It was just too cruel of thought to think he had to wait so many more long years before someone accepted him.
More thoughts came to her then. She would eventually have to leave the boy behind to go back to her own time, right? Her abandonment was inevitable. Would he understand if she explained to him, or would he feel scorned and think of her just as everyone else had treated him in his life; backs turned and running away as he stood and watched? Would his future self remember, would Gaara of her time acknowledge her, or would it be lost to this world? Would this world even still exist? At the thought of leaving the small boy, the outcome that would surely come from her departure, she hoped now her guidance would follow. Should she stay a bit longer, watch this Gaara grow until an age where she knew he would handle her goodbye well? Yet, if she did decide that route, how many years would that take? She had family, and friends, waiting for her back home.
"Dad. Mom..." she whispered, the thought of her family coming to mind.
She shut her eyes then, locking her hands together and placing her forehead against her fists. She braced herself then, feeling a warmth and strain welling up inside her mind and traveling down to her eyes. Try as she might, the images of her friends came next, and Sakura shook trying to hold back tears that threatened to fall.
"Naruto," she whispered her best friend's name. "Sasuke-kun."
She wondered if they worried for her, if they were searching for her with no rest. She wondered if Sasuke even cared, if he forsake his resolve just to come to the desert in search of her. She wondered if Kakashi had guilt now for sending her alone, or if Gaara was just as upset with her as Kakashi claimed he would be.
"Gaara..."
His name had come out louder than she meant it to, and no soon after the image of the little boy holding her hand came to her mind did she bite her lip to hold down a sorrowful noise. A few tears painted her cheeks now, but she held on hard to be as silent as possible. She realized then she let herself become to attached to the whole situation than she should have. She cared too much, and it would be her downfall the day she could have to say goodbye forever to the little boy who depended on her. Once upon a time, she couldn't let go of Sasuke in the past, and she felt like she was once again stuck in a similar situation. She didn't want to let go of Gaara, who she had learned to care so deeply for.
People praised her for her love, but it was a burden in her mind at times.
"Sakura."
The woman gasped lightly when she heard the call of her name. She had let her mind wander far, for the boy was able to sneak close to her without her noticing, and by the time she wiped her tears away to look down at him, he had embraced her, resting his head against her. She took a moment to glance down at him before looking back at the corner where his gourd was placed. The container was unmoved, still laying on the spot the boy had left it, and the rosette was surprised Gaara had come to her and forsake the object now. He had been so captivated on his own, she didn't expect the boy to come over and acknowledge her anytime soon. Maybe he had become hungry, or anxious. She cleared her throat, to mask away the pain before asking the boy.
"What's wrong?"
He was quiet for some time, still resting his hands and head against her before he turned to look at her.
"You're crying," he whispered.
His face was hard, held no emotion, eyes steady on hers, he did not back down from her long gaze this time. Yet, his voice had been soft and it made the girl wonder if had he been troubled by her tears.
"I'm alright," she answered back, forcing a smile onto her face.
The boy scowled lightly.
"I hate that look," he proclaimed, beginning to back slightly away from the girl with disgust.
To this, Sakura drew in a long breath, holding it while she closed her eyes before relaxing.
'Clever boy,' Sakura thought.
The child was not new to forced smiles, and fake happiness. In a way, it was ironic that Gaara knew very clearly when someone was putting up a facade with him while he still questioned Sakura what love was exactly. It made her think back at the time she had first met Sai, and how his phony grin irked her. She understood the redhead's distaste then.
"Sorry," Sakura commented, holding an arm out and inviting the boy back for an embrace. "You're right, I was crying."
He eyed her invitation to return with an inquiring gaze. He didn't draw back into her, just instead staring at her open arm before looking back up at her skeptically.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, tilting his head.
Her chest grew heavy then. She didn't have the heart to tell him yet, especially tonight, that she was upset because she was going to miss him. Her face must have morphed, because as she looked back up at Gaara he once again took a step away from her, face glaring.
"It's because of me."
Very clever boy, Sakura decided then. Yet, at his dark look, the rosette quickly realized he thought the blame entirely on his presence instead of what it truly was to her. It was the thought of his existence gone that made her sad, not because he was standing before her.
"Never," she quickly rebuttal.
"Liar," he mouthed, eyes widening dangerously.
"Was it not you who just stopped my tears?" she asked him, hoping his young mind would understand her underlying message. "I am not crying now."
He glowered again at her, both their eyes unbreakable from the other. He tried to make her crack under his stare, trying to get her to admit to him what he suspected. Meanwhile, she held her gaze to show him that she had nothing to hide, and that she was genuine when saying his presence no longer terrified her.
"You mean so much to me," she whispered, unsure if her voice even carried her words to him.
Her thoughts of losing him one day returned and, try as she might in front of the little boy, she had to be the one to turn her eyes away from him and shield her small tears from being seen. Again, in her mind, she chastised herself. She should be happy that she was giving the little boy some peace, she should be proud in knowing he would be alright on his own in the future. She should not have a fear of losing the little boy when he was such a prominent figure in her future.
As for the boy, he blinked once, twice, thrice to Sakura's words before watching her turn away with tears. Upon the sight of her his glare fell, and a familiar pain bolted through his chest. It was a forlorn ache he was able to abandon the night he killed his uncle. He had promised himself that he would never feel this heartache again, that he would learn to numb himself from the cruel world around him. If no one could feel anything for him, than he would do the same to them. Yet, her tears made him take a small step forward. Then another, and another, and for whatever reason, despite the pledge he made for himself, he reached for her again, acknowledging that he understood her tears all to well.
Her pain was suddenly his.
He places his hands against her leg before he slowly brought his head down to rest against her, soft words escaping him then.
"Don't cry."
To him, she listened. Feeling his support, the feel of his presence now, the ambition within her to show him that the world around him wasn't all entirely against him, she was able to sniff back her tears easily. She wiped her eyes before looking back down at him, a small, authentic smile finally coming to her at the sight and feel of him. Never would she have imagined upon first meeting this child that he would come to her on his own accord. Never would she have thought Gaara to learn sympathy so early on, and especially tonight did she not think him to console her. She immediately reached down for him, embracing him.
"Thank you," she breathed for him to hear.
They stayed like that for few long moments, until the weight of her became too much for Gaara, and he pulled back once again to meet with her eyes. In his gaze was still uncertainty, and Sakura knew right away he still worried where her tears had truly stem from.
"Why are you crying? Did you hurt yourself?"
She thought for a moment, absentmindedly running her hand and fingers through Gaara's hair and cupping the side of his face.
"I did," she finally admitted.
The boy stared into her gaze for a moment before running his eyes over her entire frame. Trying to pinpoint a cut or bruise he had seen people claim before to cause them physical distraught. When none became apparent to his eyes his gaze went back up to the rosette.
"Where?" He asked, with the tilt of his head.
Sakura tapped against her chest with a finger, morphing Gaara's face to mild surprise. Her plight was much more understandable now, he knew that pain, knew why her tears had come. Yet, it eventually made his eyes narrow with doubt still. She had heartache, yet blamed herself for it? Was that possible? Was she still holding back that it was him that made her tears come? His face must have revealed inner questions, for Sakura answered before he could even ask.
"I was thinking about my friends," she whispered, revealing some truth to her thoughts. "How I miss them."
It seemed with this revelation, the boy was beginning to lose interest in the situation. He rested his head against her once more, but pouted and kept his eyes distant at the thought of her words. Understandably so, Sakura assumed, for the boy didn't have someone he could happily fall back on and call friend.
"Did you kill them?"
Sakura's eyes widened to the morbid question, and she looked down at Gaara, wondering if his words were meant as a twisted joke. He didn't look up at her though, instead keeping his head planted against her still. It made the young woman wonder if her teachings had yet to reach him still about killings and murder, or if tonight was to blame for his grisly thoughts. She was flabbergasted at first to say the least.
"No," she commented, disturbed slightly. "I just haven't seen them for a while. I miss them."
His small hands gripped her a little more tighter then.
"You can go see them if you want," he said, before turning to look at her once more, "but you have to promise you'll come back."
Again, she wondered if his words and tone were somehow laced with a humor that had slipped past her ears. His eyes though said that he had said nothing with humor, and his hard stare bore into her harder. He was trying to convey the seriousness that she return to him, and despite his distant gaze and tone, Sakura found it oddly funny. In a sense, for her, it was more of his way of saying that she meant something to him. Something he didn't want to lose; a friend.
"Thank you," she chuckled lightly. "I can't go see them right now, but hopefully soon."
The boy nodded, suffice with her answer. His head went back to her leg then, eyes blinking ahead him once again.
"You have a lot of friends?" he asked, amusement lacing his words.
"I have a few friends," Sakura said, hand reaching again to stroke red locks. "Some of them closer than others."
"Close friends?"
"Sort of like, best friends. Have you ever heard of that before, best friends?"
The boy nodded against her leg. She was somewhat surprised the term wasn't foreign to him. Perhaps he had learned what it meant through media, or the conversations of others. His hands gripped at her hard again.
"Can I be like them?" Gaara asked, hands still tight with anticipation.
"Like what?" Sakura asked, "A close friend?"
Gaara nodded, picking his head back up. Yet, instead of looking at her, his eyes traveled to where his left hand currently gripped.
"You already are," Sakura commented, her eyes falling to where his was now.
Despite her words, they were lost to the boy as his concentration fell to Sakura's shorts. His hand had gripped there, and something within her pockets suddenly earned his attention more than the rosette herself. He slid his hand up, and Sakura watched in fascination as Gaara brought his palm up to press against her short pocket. The contents of that pocket were normally empty when Sakura placed herself inside Gaara's room, yet today had been different. Her eyes widened when she felt the pressure of Gaara's hand push the little vial in her pocket against her.
"Ah, don't push," she quickly said when she remembered what it was she was carrying.
He stopped and looked up at her expectantly.
"What is it?" he asked.
She turned her eyes from him then, feeling her heart slightly drop that his fascination fell to exactly what Baki foretold. As the man had said, Rasa knew best what was expected of his son tonight, and as Sakura turned to look back at Gaara, she saw a hunger in his eyes that had never come before. Did he understand exactly what it was she was carrying?
"It's nothing important," Sakura murmured, glancing around the room. "Would you like me to read to you, or we could play a game."
She was trying hard now to ward his attention onto something else, and though he didn't place his hand back onto her pocket, Sakura could see through the corner of her eye that Gaara's were still absorbed by that little tube. She reached down to him, lifting his head with her hands so that his eyes were back on her.
"Why don't you show me something cool with your sand?" she asked, trying still to draw his attention away.
He took her bait then, teal eyes swimming side to side at Sakura's request.
"My sand?" he eventually questioned.
Since the beginning, Gaara had found Sakura's interests and affections toward him to be misplaced. She was the young woman who called him friend before she had any clue as to who, or what, he was. She was a being who was asking him to show her his sand when others feared the very thought of it. Why was she like this?
What was first incessant revulsion on Gaara's part for Sakura, for nobody dared to try to form some sort of bond with him except he who first had and deceived him and his emotions, soon turned into curious fascination. She pushed for the boy to let her understand him, and emphasized he could lean on her for guidance, and eventually both the fascination and skepticism he had of her was slowly morphing into the required acknowledgment he so desperately needed. He was smart enough to recognize now how he desired Sakura and her strong fondness, much like he had with his uncle at one time. That feeling made him both inspired, and antsy. He didn't want her to be like his uncle. He didn't want her to leave him like his uncle had, and he didn't want her to spill out that this whole situation had been an act on her part when he killed her.
Wait.
He questioned himself suddenly. Why did he think he was going to kill her? That wasn't right, was it? She hadn't tarnished anything to deserve that.
'Yet,' something else whispered into this mind.
His chest grew heavy then. Anxiety was slowly becoming enmity, and his eyes narrowed along with the growing hate. There was suddenly an annoying scratching inside his mind, a low growl echoing within his mentality walls as well. His scar began to ache, and something in his vision hued the world around him to red.
'She is just like everyone else,' his mind whispered with a gnarr.
Gaara's scar burned all the more.
'She will betray you. She will hurt you. She will leave you.'
Gaara tried to convince himself otherwise, something else inside of him was reminding him this sort of thinking was wrong. What was it Sakura had told him before? To listen to her instead of the monster inside of him? If this was true, why was her voice non-existent now? Did this just mean she did not care and that the monster inside of him was all the wiser?
'Let me, and I will take care of her. Let me, and I will numb you again from the pain.'
Gaara was shaking in his mind now, uncertain whether his tremblings carried outwardly. It sure felt like his arms were shuddering as he brought them up.
'She will hate you.'
"Gaara?"
The boy lost his breath then, and slowly widened eyes met soft, emerald ones. The red had vanished, the grating and dark voice was now gone from his mind, and anger was replaced with dread. He turned to look down at his hands, a cold sweat tracing his head when he saw his fingers laced together, forming a seal. At that sight, a gasp left him. He looked up at Sakura, expecting her to look down at him skeptically, but what he saw instead in her soft gaze was concern and naiveté. She had no idea what it was that going through his mind, or who it was that was just speaking to him. Another emotion he had tried to abandon resurfaced, and the feeling only made his anxiety suddenly grow.
He felt guilty.
"What happened?" she asked, a small smile forming. "Is it still a little too hard for you?"
His eyes fell from her then, frantically searching instead around the room in some sort of means of help for his anxiety. His heart only raced faster when he saw the closed doors and locked windows. He suddenly felt confined. He grew more anxious at the thought of being locked up, he worried he would forever remain in this room with the guilt never going away. His cold sweat suddenly turned hot, and he wondered why the temperature in the room suddenly sky-rocketed. Had Sakura done something to make the room more unbearable, he wondered. Why did she have to close the doors, lock the windows, and leave that annoying bright light on?
"Are you alright?" Sakura asked, finally taking notice of the boy's panic-stricken face.
Yet, he shook his head at the question before looking back up at her. He gulped hard before his shaking voice was heard.
"I want to go outside."
Sakura sighed.
"We were outside, but then you decided to come back home. Remember?"
She carried her voice as she turned her head, watching Gaara make his way to one of the windows. It was late already, the air outside would be cold and irritating, and she didn't want to walk back out just for Gaara to decide once again that he needed to quickly return home.
"Wait until morning," she added, watching him still.
She narrowed her eyes as he stood staring at the closed window, the bright moon taunting him. Before she could call for him, he had reached for the window, unlocking and opening it back up. Sakura didn't think anything of the action, just Gaara being his usual self, but when the boy jumped up to the edge of the small window, beginning to climb out of it, Sakura stood.
"Wait!" she called, rushing over to him. "What are you doing?!"
He ignored her, trying to squeeze his way through. Now the rosette began to panic. He was desperate to go out, with or without her, and she had an inkling suspicion that anyone who crossed his path out there would meet ill-fate if they decided to rub the young boy the wrong way. She grabbed him then, pulling him back in and against her as he struggled.
"Stop it!" she cried when he turned and began to push against her with his smalls hands.
"Let me go," he hissed.
When he realized that older woman was not going to, and remembered what power she had over him, his pushing and shoving turned into hits.
"I need to go outside!" he cried desperately.
"No, you don't," Sakura replied. "I told you to wait until morning!"
Even then, if the child was as desperate when sun broke through to go out as he was now she would still probably refuse his request. She realized now his perseverance to go outside was mislaid. Never had he been this desperate to go outside like this before, that she did consider the full moon once again to blame.
'Damn it,' she thought, holding the boy back still as his small hands punched and slapped at her. 'I wanted to believe. I wanted to prove them wrong...'
At the moment of losing herself in her mind, a small hit from Gaara landed against the side of her head. It hadn't hurt her, just shook her back into the reality, and she turned to look at him. His eyes didn't, wouldn't, meet with hers.
"Please," she tried a different approach. "Just stop. You need to listen to me."
"I need to go outside!" he rebuttal with a panicked cry.
Sakura could now see his frenzied face, she understood the anxiety that took control of the boy, but she still was unsure where it had come from, or what it could lead to.
"It's alright," she tried to coax him now. "It'll be alright. I'm here. I'll help you."
And she meant that. She would support him in any way she could, and would be by his side through this episode.
Still, the boy squirmed, pushed, and hit, whether he believed her words or not, his determination to get outside was stronger than her support. Instead of words, instead of his begging, a scream erupted from him. It was loud, and shrill, and it carried out throughout the home. No doubt did his cry stir everyone within the home awake, but instead of those coming to investigate the course, they remained hidden under their blankets while trying desperately to drown out the foreboding cry.
Sakura cringed at his loud, sharp cry. She expected him by now to tire, but his scream seemed to just go on, and on, did the young woman finally clasp her hand around his mouth.
"Gaara!" she whispered fiercely, his hot breath still crying out into her hand. "Control yourself!"
Then she felt it. It was snaking around her ankles at first, spreading all across the floor and towards her direction. She turned her head swiftly to the gourd in the corner, watching it dissolve more and more as piles of sand drew to the both of them. Sakura held onto Gaara with one arm as her other hand still held onto his mouth trying to stifle his screams. She narrowed her eyes while watching the sand trace up her body, trying to engulf.
"Gaara," she calmly called to the boy, narrowed eyes turning back to him. "I know what you're feeling now is scary, but it will pass. I'm right here for you."
Her voice seemed to fall on deaf ears as his cry only continued while his sand began to climb and engulf her more. She would not let go of the boy, she wanted to think her holding him brought him some sort of relief as his struggles did stop. Instead, she made slow movements shaking most of the sand off of her and back up to the bed. The grains followed her, moving just as slowly for her as she did backing away. Slowly, she stepped back onto the bed and off of the floor. She did her best to keep her movements small and minimal. She did not want to surprise or shock Gaara in any way.
"You can get through this," Sakura whispered to him.
The sand on the floor erupted then, a small wall of the grains began towering above her and Gaara. It did nothing at first, just looming over the two, but as Sakura focused her eyes more on it, trying to determine what next to do, she could see a small claw accumulating from the grains, slowly drawing and reaching toward the both of them. Sakura remained calm, yet the boy next to her still hollered against her palm with eyes shut tightly.
"Gaara," she called quietly to him again.
But the claw slowly drew closer, his screams grew louder, and Sakura grew more desperate with Baki's words coming to her mind once again. She remembered the small vial in her pocket.
"...for if he grows anxious."
"The Ichibi is a terrible beast with a thirst for blood, and a need to kill, and Gaara's is its only way out into the world. The smell, or even the feel, of that blood may help to calm him down some."
Sakura sneered at the sand claw in front of her. She had wanted so hard to believe that tonight would be a good one. He had such a good day today, why did that all have to change at night.
'Damn you,' she thought with an image of the Ichibi, Gaara's father, Gaara's mother, everyone who mistreated him, coming to mind as well.
She released Gaara's mouth, his screams erupting and shaking the house once more as she drove her hand into her pocket. She pulled out the small vial, and used her thumb to wriggle off the cork. There, a small, audible pop was heard as the top flew and landed a bit away onto the floor, but the second that noise hit Sakura's ears was no sooner did the boy's scream stop. She felt him practically beginning to climb over her, searching for the source of the noise. She readjusted her hold on him, carrying him steady as she glanced at his curious gaze. In the corner of her eye, she eyed the claw that had been reaching for them. The sandy talon was now gone, and even the wall of grains had fallen back to the floor, swimming contently around the bed she stood on.
'Is it his emotions that make his sand act out like that?' she wondered.
She felt Gaara once again squirming in her hold, trying to reach for the vial in her hand. Again, she readjusted her grip and brought the vial back and away from his greedy paws. That was when he looked back at her, eyes steady.
"Give me," he ordered.
The rosette swallowed hard. This was not the situation she had wanted to happen tonight. She would have never wanted this for Gaara. She didn't want to believe Baki's words that a full moon altered him. She didn't want to think his thirst for blood was anything more than a fabricated rumor. She had wanted to believe Gaara was stronger minded than the monster inside of him.
She had wanted to believe.
"Please," he whispered, eyes again on her.
'He will change,' another part of her mind told her. 'He will be a great leader someday.'
She turned her eyes onto him then, her stare just as hard. To her look, his eyes widened and nose flared. Was he holding back? Was he growing anxious once again?
"Do you know what this is?" Sakura asked him, fingers gripping the bottle still.
He nodded slowly, once. Eyes never breaking. Of course he would know.
"I want it," he repeated. "Can I have it?"
His voice was soft and collect, but his eyes gave away the dark desire he had for the blood. He was desperate, Sakura realized then, as he was humoring her with soft spoken words, and polite manners. He would do anything in his power at that moment to retrieve that little vial, and she realized then she was probably one of the more fortunate ones now than others in the past. At least he held back his sand for her sake, where others would probably be dead by now just for that blood.
"Gaara, I am going to give this to you," Sakura spoke, slowly.
His eyes lit up to accession, but listened as she began her demands in return.
"But you have to promise me you won't leave this room tonight," she added. "You have to stay here until morning."
He nodded feverishly before she even finished.
"Yes," he agreed, once again leaning over her hold for the vial.
She pulled him back one last time, readjusting him in her hands. She gave him one more, hard, long glance before slowly bring the vial towards him. She could see his eyes shake, and body tremble with anticipation, but he did not nab the small tube of crimson until she had it placed in front of him.
"Here," she said. "Remember your promise."
Not a second later did the boy swipe and nab at the small tube. He struggled once more against Sakura, and the rosette finally let the boy fall to the floor. She watched him carefully make his way back to the corner of his room, the sand on the floor following closely behind him before rectifying itself back into Gaara's gourd. He sat down once again in front of the gourd, whispering to it once more and showing off the small vial as if the canister itself had eyes.
Sakura stepped back down with a sigh, unsure of herself. Had she done well, or had she done bad? She had wanted to believe in the little boy tonight, but his bloodthirsty appetite just seemed to be the fate Baki said would come. Still, she stopped him from going outside with the means given to her. That was what was expected of her, to keep Gaara away from others at his most dangerous, and she succeeded with that.
Then again, the night was young.
"What's wrong?" Gaara mumbled, his voice loud enough to catch Sakura's attention.
Yet, instead of on her, the boy was still facing his gourd.
"You don't like it?" he whispered.
Sakura stood still, watching with uncertainty at what was unfolding in front of her with Gaara and his gourd.
"I'm sorry, Mother," he muttered. "I'll bring you something better."
Sakura's eyes widened when the little boy poured the vial, and all of the blood, onto the palm of his hand. The red stained his skin, and seeped through his small fingers to form a thick, crimson puddle onto the floor. For the rosette, she was at a lost for words when she saw Gaara drag his bloody hand across his face.
"...Next time," he hissed with a dark grin.
