Scars

Ever since the 4th War ended, Sakura – like many shinobi – found sleep to be fitful at best; most nights consisted of tossing and turning, coupled with stretches of wakefulness that rendered her feeling over-exhausted, yet unable to sleep. The nightmares had been frequent in the first few weeks to months, after the war's end, but eventually, bad dreams tapered off to only a few here and there.

Yet, ever since the incident back in Konoha – the catalyst behind her seeking genuine change and growth in her life – Sakura discovered that her nightmares had been resurfacing and increasing in frequency. Not only that, they had gradually morphed from the blood-soaked horrorscapes of battle, into crippling instances of abandonment. This, more than anything else, was Sakura's greatest fear. The fear of being completely alone after losing all those she held so very precious; it was a debilitating anxiety that had plagued her for nearly half a year, only peaking to the worst it had ever been, when she arrived in Suna.

Perhaps leaving her home wasn't something she'd been entirely ready for…but there was no use in crying over spilled milk; Sakura owed it to her loved ones, but mostly to herself, to pull it together.

So, as she was ripped from sleep that night, screaming and gasping for breath, after her latest night terror, Sakura dragged in a shaky breath, disengaged the silencing jutsu she'd begun to use in an attempt to keep the rest of the Sabaku residents undisturbed, and pulled her green night robe about her shoulders.

Today had marked exactly 1 month of her stay in Suna, and while her nights remained dark and disturbed, Sakura couldn't help the steady feeling of purpose and belonging that had begun to creep in.

Konoha had been her home, yes, but she'd always felt like she was playing second fiddle to someone else's main act; she'd been a valuable asset to them, but it hadn't been entirely of her own making. As Tsunade's protégé and the student of the infamous copy nin, her talents had been expected, and for a time, largely glossed over in favor of the Dead last ninja whom no one had expected would amount to anything, and the last Uchiha who was prized for his ability to reestablish a prestigious clan that could have faded into extinction.

For all her ambitions, skill and accomplishments, Sakura's place in Konoha had always felt – to her – dimmed and overshadowed. And that had been expected; she was a civilian family's only child after all, a daughter, and the only female on team 7. Proving herself had been something she'd had to fight through every single day, and even when she attempted to forge her own path, the shadows of her team's broken history, combined with her one-sided attachment to Sasuke, had made it impossible for Sakura to walk her own path.

But here in Suna? She was a blank slate; aside from the Kazekage and his siblings, no one really knew much of her background, nor of her complicated history with Konoha's last Uchiha heir.

Here in this beautiful desert oasis, Sakura was given the gift of starting fresh; she could carve out a path and life for herself that was a hundred percent her own, and she was finally free to discover the woman she wanted to be. No shadows, no expectations.

It was liberating.

Now, if only her sleep would give her some respite!

Tonight's dream had been particularly jarring, and the pinkette shivered with the remnants of fear, as she stepped out into the darkened hall in search of the kitchen for a drink of water.

Once there, the green-eyed woman fumbled around for a bit, until she found the cupboard that housed all the glasses. Pouring herself a generous glass from the tap, she stood there with only the pale moonlight filtering through the window, and greedily gulped it down.

Another sharp tremor shot down her spine seconds before there was a slithering sound, followed by a gravelly bass voice murmuring "Sakura?"

She hadn't even sensed him; so absorbed in her own head, Sakura hadn't even contemplated the possibility that someone else could be up and about, and her guard had subconsciously dropped. Inhaling sharply, she whirled around and let out something resembling a strangled shriek, as the glass slipped from her hands and shattered across the mosaic tiled floor.

He'd scared her half out of her skin, and it showed as her wide, fear-filled eyes locked upon surprised jade.

For a long drawn out moment, neither moved, nor spoke.

He hadn't meant to startle her, and upon closer inspection, he detected the mini tremors that still wracked her body, as the petite woman fought to steady her breathing and heartrate. "Don't move; the glass." His hand stretched forth – palm outwards – to halt her movement; then his sand slithered forwards at his command, gathering up the broken shards and sweeping them into a far corner.

With the fright drainedcompletelyout of her, Sakura grappled for some form of response, "Oh, n-no, I'm s-so sorry, I didn't mean- ah!" she'd moved a half-step and caught a stray shard to the side of her foot.

Blood bubbled instantly, and the Kazekage's nose picked up the coppery tang in the air. "Sakura, stop…!" he warned in a subdued hiss of breath. A coil of sand scooped up the offending glass sliver and then Gaara was at her side, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

"Eep! Gaara…!" She half-whispered, but he ignored her protest.

"Be still." He commanded lowly, and seated her in a chair. Stooping to kneel, he took up a nearby dish towel in one hand, and gently grasped the heel of her injured foot, in the other.

His sudden touch upon her skin – firm but gentle – caused a sharp intake of breath; she held it, then let it exit her lips in a shudder when he inspected the cut along the outer edge of her arch, with sharply focused eyes.

"It's bleeding – but the cut itself is shallow." Wetting the towel in warm water, he took up her foot once more and gently dabbed at the wound to clear away the excess blood. All the while, he was aware of the way Sakura's green eyes tracked his every move, when she thought he wouldn't notice.

Once or twice, his eyes would dart up to catch hers, yet she always looked away; something in her face tugged wrongly at him, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it with her gaze ever eluding him. Once he felt the cut was sufficiently clean, he cupped her foot more fully in his hand, and allowed it to glow white with his Chakra.

That 'Sharp' heated sensation from his healing chakra, stole her breath for several seconds, and she gasped, her head turning away in tandem with the brief closing of her eyelids.

Mistaking her sudden action for discomfort, the redhead halted and touched hesitant fingers to her knee, "Are you in pain?" he asked in concern; then he caught the glimmer of a tear spill down her cheek, and instantly, Gaara regretted. "Sakura, did I-?!"

"No, you didn't…!" The pinkheaded medic hiccupped on a strangled sob, then managed to bring her face round to look him in the eyes. Her expression looked seconds away from crumbling, and it broke his heart.

Stifling any further cries, she wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, then placed her palms down and gripped the seat of the chair. "I just…I couldn't sleep. I had a dream; nightmare, really. And I just needed some water. You s-startled me is all, which really shows how messed up my emotions are right now; I didn't even sense you." She finished with a shake of her head and brows drawn together in self-condemnation.

For several moments, a poignant silence hung between them. His hand still lingered, cradling her foot, and the redhead found he had no desire to let go. So, he let that hand rest against his thigh – her foot gently within his grasp – and brought his eyes up to look into her face.

It was in that moment, that Sakura realized the state of undress the Sunaian leader was in; the tunic upon his person, looked more like a shortened version of a night robe as it hung completely open, laying bare his slender, finely sculpted physique. It was a muted jade color similar to his eyes, and his trousers were plain, drawstring black cotton that hung low on narrow cut hips.

He was a stunningly beautiful man; despite the inner turmoil brought on by her dreams, Sakura fully took in this observation and a traitorous dusky pink dusted across her cheekbones.

Gaara had noticed her eyes take him in, and the resulting flush it brought to her cheeks…but her distress was still very prevalent and took precedence in his mind.

Sitting back upon his heels, the Kazekage let both his hands cradle her foot, and mindlessly caressed mini soothing circles into her skin. "have you tried speaking to someone? About your nightmares?" he asked tentatively; Naruto had told him once long ago after his revival, that it helped to talk about one's traumas in order to properly work through them. He hadn't given it much thought at the time…but this moment brought up the memory afresh, and he wondered if Sakura's long-standing struggles had been because she hadn't sought out help, nor had anyone beyond Naruto, taken notice that the pink haired woman was in emotional pain.

Why hadn't anyone noticed?! How dare they?

This precious woman had been suffering - potentially in silence – for who knows how long. It was no wonder she couldn't sleep peacefully, haunted as she appeared to be.

Sakura shook her head, confirming his suspicions. "…No. When the war ended, we were all debriefed extensively, and sent to post-war counseling; many of us have some form of PTSD, if not all of us," she shrugged, "I just – figured they'd tell me what I already knew. I didn't want to act like I was some 'special case' either, I just w-w-wanted-"

Her voice began to quake, and the lump forming made it impossible to form coherent words without falling apart. She refused to crumble in front of Gaara, again. That last display upon her arrival in Suna was still a source of embarrassment she had yet to successfully expel from her mind.

But the redhead thought very differently; from where he stood, Sakura was fighting an emotional and mental battle that she was losing, all because she was determined to do it all on her own; he could understand her reasons, even empathize. Vulnerability was a costly commodity and often, the price was far too high. For people like Sakura and himself however, being vulnerable was something that was innately a part of them, yet cruel circumstances had left them crippled and nearly petrified, incapable of doing so.

Yet, their natures continued to fight towards it, grasping at it with all their might because for all their stubbornness and bravado that they could make it in life alone… deep down, they craved for someone to break down their barriers and fully bare their soul to. In all it's ugly, raw nakedness, they wanted, needed someone to willingly hold that part of them and treat it as something priceless and sacred. Until that moment, they would refuse anything else; people like him. Like Sakura, they would not yield their heart's truest desires simply for the sake of not being alone; solitude was heartbreaking…but preferable to the torture of having to conceal one's heart from someone you love.

"Someone once told me…that to be honest about your emotional scars, is the best thing you can do for yourself. Hard. But crucial to healing."

He glanced up at the woman before him, to find her eyes trained to the wall behind him, and her gaze was distant and contemplative.

"…maybe. But maybe, I'm just tired of being brave." She admitted despondent, and wordlessly withdrew her foot from his hold and stood, brushing passed him.

"Sakura," he called out to her, sensing the metaphorical wall she was raising around herself again; he'd felt confident that he'd begun to crack through her barriers…now it seemed, she was pulling away again.

"No, I'm sorry; you've been kind to listen, but – I can't do this." She shook her head and her feet picked up speed as the sudden urge flee, pressed at her heels. She'd just made it into the atrium and crossed to the hall, when she felt him coming up behind her,

"Sakura, you don't have to do this-" he reached for her, but her hand slipped just beyond his grasp, and she tucked her arms around her waist, hugging herself.

"Do what?"

"Alone." He stressed the words, his jade eyes looked upon her with deep understanding even as his hand reached towards her, beckoning her not to shut him out.

She stared at him a long moment, and then a hallow laugh bubbled from her lips, only to taper off when she fixed him with a look that was both resigned and skeptical. "why do you care? It's not like we really know each other; not like you know Naruto. You have a connection with him that goes far deeper than even brothers. Do you just feel obligated to look after my wellbeing? Because there's no-"

"I don't do this out of obligation, Sakura; surely you would know me at least that much?" the redhead argued. Why was she so hell bent on pushing him away? The answer to that question came all too easily…

Sasuke Uchiha.

For all his sincere efforts at reformation, the raven's one grievous mistake perhaps, had been not making his intentions indisputably clear to the pinkette. For years, he'd left her with no answer, save for the repeated rebuff of his actions… but a woman like Sakura worked best in clear-cut boundaries; she knew exactly what she wanted from life and always knew exactly where she stood with people, especially those she cared for most. Her complicated attachment to Sasuke however, had left her questioning at almost every step, and blindly stumbling her way through the various shades of grey; his responses towards her had always been bland indifference or elusive; never a concrete 'yes' or 'no'.

Having had no closure for so long, had done more than its fair share of damage upon Sakura's confidence in her abilities to discern what paths and choices were best suited for her personal life – and she most certainly struggled with discerning the sincerity of those around her; to her, there was hidden motive and ulterior expectations at every turn…it was no wonder she was exhausted and resorted to shutting everyone out.

"Then why do you do it? Honestly, I don't get it…" She sounded exasperated, and he could see the lack of sleep that had taken its toll upon her as she swept disheveled bangs from off her forehead. There were dark circles under her eyes and lines around her face that spoke of endless nights of tossing, turning and even crying herself into a fitful sleep.

"Because I care." He said it like it should have been obvious to her.

It wasn't though, and she met his open expression with a baffled look of her own, "Why?"

"I just do." He declared firmly. His jade orbs now held her squarely, and when she made no move to answer him, he took a chance and stepped towards her, heart hammering in his ribcage. "is it truly this hard for you – to believe that I could genuinely care about what happens to you, what you're feeling, without having any kind of motive or obligation to?"

He was just out of arms reach from her, and Sakura felt her heartbeat stutter as she shakily inhaled a breath; his eyes were so green, yet so blue at the same time…and sharply focused on her in a way that had her believing he could read the very contents of her heart, if he so wished it. "…Honestly? It is. It's just - you're you."

"What does that mean?" He murmured.

He watched her carefully; he'd noted the sharp intake of breath as well as her increasing heartbeat, and he marveled at the dusting of red across her cheekbones as her emerald eyes stared widely up into his face. He could drown in the deep ocean of her gaze.

"I just…it means that you're the Kazekage. You're Sabaku no Gaara; you are one of the strongest, incredibly skilled, and most influential men I've ever met…yet, here you are. Spending your time asking after the needs of a – l-lowly medic; I'm not even one of your own people." There was an airy quaver creeping into her voice, but she'd never admit it was due to the flaming redhead's increasing proximity;

since when had his silhouette upon the floor begun to merge with her own…?

"Your use of the word 'lowly' in conjunction with yourself, astonishes me…you are the legendary protégé of Senju Tsunade, and the one who defeated the Akatsuki member, Sasori, nearly single-handedly, at the age of fifteen…"

She gasped, startled eyes catching onto the flicker of unnamed emotion in his jade orbs; "You – you sound like you've read my file,"

"I have. I memorized it; I could recite every line of it by heart. " He boldly confessed, narrowing the gap between them with a minuscule shift in her direction. She was magnetizing, and he was being steadily drawn in as each second ticked by.

Heat suffused her cheeks in a vibrant red that spread all the way down her neck; she couldn't believe it. His bold confession left her in such absolute shock, there was nothing she could think of to say in return.

Witnessing her utter surprise at his admission, had Gaara's nerves winding tight and eventually, the redhead couldn't bare to hold her gaze, and dropped his eyes, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

Maybe that had been too much information? Too intense, maybe…for all Gaara's skill at political negotiations and inter village relations, the man was practically clueless when it came to basic human interaction…particularly with the opposite sex.

Women were an infinite enigmatic mystery to the redhead, and he often wondered at his eldest brother's insatiable desire to repeatedly entangle himself with the opposite gender on such a regular basis! From what he'd witnessed – coupled with the few or so black eyes his brother would come home sporting after his 'dates' – females appeared for all intents and purposes, more trouble than they were worth; don't even get him started on his own sister and the various troublesome issues that came with her.

. . . That was until Sakura Haruno had quite literally crashed into his life; the first person to ever stare down his demonic side courageously, and the one woman who had never been afraid of who he was, as a person.

Then the moment when she'd saved his life, and brought him back from the very pit of death, and her tearful smile was all that was needed to tip him over the precipice of 'no return'.

Naruto had been his light.

But Sakura was sunshine, fresh air, laughter and freedom all rolled into one…

Gods help him, he'd been falling head over heels for this green-eyed vivacious medic nin, ever since…even his awkward, stilted bashful efforts to connect to his humanity, couldn't bar that fact.

And she'd only been in Suna for a month, yet he was so hopelessly and nearly desperately devoted to her, it was maddeningly embarrassing.

But even during his demonic history, Gaara had never been the person to shy away or run from who he was; he'd owned his demons fully, and afterwards, took full responsibility to face up to the tragedies he'd caused.

Sabaku no Gaara had been many things; but cowardly was never one of them, and he wasn't about to start now. The man he'd become and what he felt - he'd never deny either, especially when it came to her.

"Does that…surprise you?" he tentatively asked, unable to beat the deafening silence between them, a second longer.

A beat.

"I …" her lips parted, she gulped around the dryness in her throat, then murmured low, "I never would've thought someone would take such an interest…"

"I see." He mumbled, massaging the back of his neck self-consciously, before he added carefully, "Well, I suppose I've never been the kind of person to do things partway… and that is why I wanted you to know – that I do care. And it's not because I feel obligated. You – you don't need to do this alone; Sakura,"

He paused when she raised green eyes glistening with unshed tears, to his; her lip quivered and she whispered, "…I know – but I'm just…afraid to let anyone in…!" Her expression crumbled, and a look of pain flashed across his stoic features as he whispered back, pleadingly, "…I wish you would. I want to help you – if only you would trust me to…"

His breath suddenly froze when he felt the touch of her hand upon his arm; her fingers squeezed in a gesture of gratitude as she whispered sweetly but sadly, "See? You are incredibly sweet."

The look in her eyes was heartbreaking, and he longed to purge it away. . . But so long as she refused his help, Gaara knew there was nothing he could do for the hurting woman.

He felt more powerless in that moment, than any in his entire life; but he said nothing, and restrained himself as she murmured quietly for him to go back to sleep and that she would as well.

No further words were spoken save for a soft 'goodnight' at the door to her chambers, and once she crossed the threshold, Gaara was once again, left alone.

He understood her fear and insecurities, more than she could possibly know. Yet, it was this self-same kindredness that left the Kazekage in no doubt, he could be the one to reach beyond her walls; he'd lift Sakura from the pit of despair, and if she'd let him, he would happily win her heart in the process.

It would be a challenge. . . but that's a Sabaku's specialty, after all

For Sakura, tearing herself away from the redhead's presence had been heart-wrenchingly painful, as had refusing his hand; he'd reached out to her in genuine friendship, but Sakura's fears and vulnerability left her wounds far too exposed and raw; she'd always been 'too much' for most in this world; Gaara was one of the few people she felt a special kind of connection to; she didn't want to risk losing that, simply because she was too terribly lonely in her fight through depression…she had to keep him at a distance, so she wouldn't lose him completely.

And yet, even as she settled upon her bed once more, the coil of sand that appeared around her wrist, jarring her with its subtle presence, opened the floodgates of pentup emotion, as the delicate granules caressed her skin in a gesture of comfort and solidarity.

Unable to withstand it, Sakura pressed trembling lips to the soft earthen granules, and clutched that hand to her heart, weeping until at last, she fell asleep;

…keeping the sweet and caring Kazekage at a distance, was going to be easier said than done.

《》