Hey, I really hope you like this fic, I put an incredible amount of effort into it, and seriously planned out past the first couple of chapters. I rewrote Gaara so many times, but I settled on his character and couldn't be happier. I took the title for this story from one of the lines I wrote towards the beginning, so I wasn't trying to throw the title into the story; I actually stole it from there.
I've noticed a couple of 'underground fighting' stories floating around, but this story probably doesn't have much in common with them. No, Sakura isn't some expertly trained ninja, MMA awesome kick ass…thing. Nothing about this story is peppy, or a message for how much girls kick ass. This is a story about survival, and I hope you give it a chance.
AU: The purpose of Sakura's life as of late has been to survive. The immeasurable pain of fighting keeps her sane, and the disturbing puzzle of Gaara's past keeps her alive.
Her teeth clacked together unceremoniously as cold water lashed down her spine in a maelstrom of motion. Slim limbs shook with an ache as her eyes followed the thin line of blood traveling down the drain, cloudy and iridescent, almost like a colored layer of smoke.
She wiped the crusted remains of the dried blood from her upper lip, wincing as her shuddering arm brushed roughly against her swollen nose, causing her to rasp out a quiet curse.
Fingers ghosted briefly over the sore expanse of her left side before she finally let her body lurch forward to turn off the tap. She stood still for a moment; the only sound reaching her ears was the heady drips of water that fell from her body.
A faint ringing touched her and she half snarled as the sound broke her ritual. A thin arm slid open the opaque glass of her shower a bit too forcefully, and it rattled ominously in her wake as she stormed form the porcelain confines she had previously been residing.
A hand swiftly lashed out as she threw a faded towel around her body, stumbling out of her bathroom in search of the shrill device.
She found her cordless phone dumped on the dark wood of her kitchen counter and cold, shaking fingers grabbed at it impatiently before pounding at the 'talk' button with the tip of her thumb.
"What is it?" She ground out huskily into the line; a slight congested tone manifested itself with her voice as she spoke.
"Did you break your nose then, Sakura?" The voice on the other line droned out, a slight static marring the tone.
She quelled the urge to throw the phone against the wall and simply bit out "No. And why the fuck are you calling, Sai?" Her teeth clicked together at a couple of inopportune moments during her sentence.
There was a light chuckle, "Just checking up on you." He mused out.
"If you don't have business with someone, then don't call them." She seethed out before finally pressing the small red button on her phone, signaling the end to the curious voice of the only person she would come close to calling her friend.
And he wasn't even that.
She dug her palms into her eyes wearily, thick strands of strawberry blond hair coiling around her skin. After a second of quiet contemplation she finally dragged herself away from the kitchenette.
The towel was clutched firmly between white fingers as pellets of water continuously fell to the floor. She removed it from her body in favor of raking the stiff cloth through her hair.
Labored breathing sounded throughout the room as Sakura walked towards her bedroom; in search of comfortable clothes to put on.
Her mind wandered during the menial task, to earlier that night.
Blood peppering the asphalt, the dull sound of fists on flesh, an ear splitting roar from the crowd that she could faintly hear above the white noise that her opponents punch had gifted her.
She shook her head, though winced at how the action caused pain to sprout up behind her eyes, regretting the fact that she didn't have any pain relievers handy.
Eyes wandered to the ball of cash she had wadded up on top of her nightstand, which caused a sigh of relief, she could at least pay for all her expenses this month.
She half regretted cutting Sai off earlier; it would be nice, for once, to have someone there – even if it was just to revel in the company of another human being.
She shook her head, as if willing herself to dismiss such silly notions. It wasn't as if she prided herself on the fact that she spent most of her time alone. She didn't flaunt it, and it wasn't part of an act; it wasn't even a decision she made consciously, really.
She had been secluding herself away from society for so long, at this point, that it had made stunted any sense of social skills she had. Her patience, for instance, had dwindled away to practically nothing.
It was a wonder Sai even stuck around. Or no, actually – it made sense that Sai stuck around – because he was just as socially inept as herself, perhaps even more so.
She didn't bother asking for his back story, fearing it would prompt him to question hers; but she figured it must have something to do with how messed up he was, you didn't end up an underground fighter because you felt like it – most of the people who hung around the ring had pretty harsh pasts.
Who the hell would willingly let the shit get beat out of them for a chance at cash unless you had nowhere else to turn?
When Sakura first dipped her toe into the waters of the fighting league she honestly didn't have too much of a choice; either fight or go work at some kind of seedy strip joint, it really wasn't much of a choice for her, though if she had been given any other options she'd have clawed at them until her fingers bled.
Even now she didn't have too much money, she could barely afford to keep a roof over her head half the time, and it most definitely wasn't on the brighter side of town.
She had perhaps gone in at first with stars clouting her vision, people telling her stories of vagabonds making large sums of money. It was possible, sure, but not to a sub-par fighter like herself.
There weren't many female fighters; not with the rules they had lording over their heads. Or rather, lack thereof. Basic guidelines set in place; no biting, no crotch shots, no hair pulling or weapons. Common sense, really.
What scared a lot off was the draw system they had in place. Whoever's name came out of the hat, you fought, be it boy, girl or hermaphrodite. Sure there were classes, but a lot of girls objected being pit against guys with fifty pounds on them.
A slim margin could do it, mostly those with some actual training; hell there was a girl she hung around briefly a couple months back who had been around mixed martial arts her whole life – she got moved to another class pretty quick though.
Mostly everyone just had some sort of rough edged style of street fighting, Sakura included. Hell if she knew what she was doing half the time besides trying to land a hard hit in a vulnerable spot, long enough to make them stutter, get a good shot or two to the temple and you were as good as gold.
It didn't really matter who got hit though, the crowds came and bet because they wanted to see carnage, and people were a much better show than dogs or roosters, especially those so desperate for cash that they'd fight until they got knocked out, or sometimes worse.
The officials usually stepped in before anything too serious happened, though. Nobody wanted the cops to come sniffing around their heels.
The unfortunate part of it was that, even if she may have been slightly more lithe than her opponents, she still wasn't very good. He nose was slightly crooked from the time a strong right hook had broken it, and a small layer of skin was deeply indented near her left eye where some girls nail had gouged out the skin.
At least she had won that one, no scratching, and definitely no eye jabs. Instant disqualification.
"Fucking bitch." She swore out, the memory lingering sourly in her mind. Her mouth was unpleasantly dry, an acidic flavor rolling against her tongue.
An incessant throbbing raged under the skin of the now blooming bruise along the underside of her eye, in an effort to distract herself she recounted her money, a slight grin working it's way to her features before remembering her split lip; her expression immediately soured as more pain sizzled at her nerve endings.
You'd think one would get used to pain, the cuts, the bruises, the broken bones, if they experience it enough. She half hoped after every fight that it would be the day where her body was used to it, like it was no big deal.
Only it felt just as raw and horrifically agonizing every time she had to go through it again, and again, the actual experience being tenfold worse than the memory every time.
It was like a fresh hit to the gut every time the waves of pain rolled off her body; though she couldn't help but think that maybe next time it wouldn't hurt as bad as before. Next time she'd knock the son of a bitch on his ass before he knocked out her molar.
Fingers knotted through her hair, the rough strands rubbing delicately over her raw knuckles, knees were drawn up to her chest as she let out a shaky breath.
Pain, it was the embodiment of her existence, the one thing that stapled her down to the earth.
She didn't think she'd be able to tell she existed if it didn't linger with her at all points of the day, if it wasn't physical there was always her psyche to help beat her down – like it was using her already fragile mentality as a carving board.
Sakura drew in a ragged breath; letting the stagnant air drift through her lungs before breathing out once more, the warm moistened air lapping at her legs, relieving her momentarily from the chills that were trying to consume her body.
Eventually her lack of sleep caught up with her and, almost like a ritual, she let her body fall back unceremoniously onto the creaking mattress.
Icy limbs huddling in on themselves, head tucked down low as she finally released her mind into infinity where it, without fail, always picked at past memories, warping the images into obscurity, adding in grotesque figures and delusions, like a lullaby sung by Lucifer himself.
She usually counted the varying hours that she slept as her best, despite the images of horror that her mind seemed to enjoy conjuring, at least it was some form of escape from her existence that she so desperately wanted to break away from.
She forced herself away from the huge drug scene around her for particularly this reason, among a multitude of others.
Sakura knew that her way of thinking probably wasn't healthy, but hell if any part of her was healthy. No, she hadn't started out messed up or anything – she even had a folded up holiday card featuring a picture of her family on the front, cartoon snowflakes printed impishly along the border.
She dug her nails into her palms, dismissing her current train of thought quickly. With a heavy sigh Sakura mustered up the motivation to lift her body from the confines of the now warm covers. Early fall was always a gamble, temperature wise, and was slightly pleased when a moderately humid breeze tickled her toes.
She wondered briefly if it had rained, before easing off the rest of her sheets and standing.
Clothes were stripped from her body and she looked into the cheap mirror that she had duct tapped to the back of her door.
She was probably far slimmer than what your average doctor recommended, her clavicle protruding, connecting to the sharp twists in the sockets of her shoulder. Ribs poked out from beneath pale skin, she didn't exactly have a steady income to buy surplus amounts of food, after all.
But that wasn't what she was looking for; she had long grown accustomed to that gawking creature in the mirror.
Instead, her eyes darted about, laying over a thin expanse of splotchy blue at the base of her hip, traveling like ivy up her left side; turning, neck craned as she noticed another harsh bruise curiously shaped like the underside of ones boot along the middle of her back.
Green irises flicked this way and that as she noted all the damage done to her body, eyes sharp, making it seem like she was writing invisible notes inside her head, evaluating the damage like you might towards a used car.
As if sated that nothing was horribly wrong, she walked to a far corner in her room, currently housing stacks of her clothing. The shelves of her dresser had collapsed around a month ago and she hadn't bothered wasting her money to buy a new one when neat stacks on the floor where just as good.
Sakura didn't really have any semblance of a fashion sense; the idea seemed foreign to her, especially since she got most of her items from thrift stores, or picked up discarded garments here and there.
The muggy air lapped at Sakura's skin and she welcomed it, sick of her fingers being eternally cold. The chills from last night still hadn't completely worn from her skin though, and for that reason decided to don a long sleeved shirt.
Her earnings from the night before, along with her balisong knife were shoved into her pockets, fingers twisted strands of her hair behind her ears as she moved towards her door, a hand flashing out briefly to grab at the set of keys lying forlornly against the countertop.
She moved only with a slight limp, the harsh recoil from every other step seemed to stem from her back; though she figured it couldn't be too serious, she could feel the muscles relaxing under the constant stress of her movements.
As she left her apartment she made sure to give the door a swift yank, the damn thing didn't close fully, and if you wanted the deadbolt to align you had to practically pull it off its hinges. She had been meaning to ask Sai to come over and take a look, but every time she had gone to ask him the words ended up dying near the back of her throat.
She could do with a little less pride and a little more luck.
Clicking both of her locks into place with two separate keys, Sakura deemed it as safe as her apartment was going to get under any circumstance and continued on her way towards the decrepit looking staircase, a tag of someone's name crudely drawn out in green spray paint fell down half of the adjourning wall – the landlord hadn't bothered to clean it up since it had made its appearance a month ago.
Not that she really cared one way or another.
There was a small boy playing at the base of the stairs, a plastic plane held in his dirty hand which he was currently moving through his air, making accommodating 'whooshing' noises to go along with the charade – despite the fact that one of the wings was missing.
A smile made its way onto the girls' features despite the fact that it made her face ache.
"Hello there, Mighty Kiyoshi." She commented, kneeling down to the little boys level.
"What a cool toy, is it new?" She inquired, peering at the chipping blue paint that adorned the plastic surface as he stopped the vehicle mid 'whoosh.'
"Ah! Sakura!" The boy half shouted, bouncing on his heels as he reached a sweaty palmed hand forward, stroking his fingers along her hair, almost as if he were petting a favorite cat.
She grinned at him, though tilted her head as his cherub-like face turned into one of worry.
"Did the big man come for you too?" His reedy voice wavered, stroking gently at the bruises coloring her face.
"After he visited Mommy, did he go see Sakura too?" He questioned out feebly.
Sakura felt her heart drop at his words, though kept her smile firmly in place, as she shook her head 'no.'
"I was being silly in my apartment and fell down." She stage whispered to the boy, "don't tell anyone how clumsy I am, please." She added with an over exaggerated pout.
The little boy giggled at this, watching as Sakura pointed once again to his toy plane.
"So is that new or what, little man?" She repeated her earlier question and he once again returned to jumping around on the balls of his feet.
"Yeah, yeah, Kiyoshi got this for his birthday yesterday!" He exclaimed in glee, referring to himself in third person.
Sakura let her mouth drop open widely as she feigned unimaginable surprise. "Your birthday?" She half-gasped.
He nodded, his excitement making his head bobble twice as fast as usual. She grinned at his antics, his name meant 'quiet' but she couldn't help in thinking that he was anything but.
"I'll get you a present, I promise." She told him reaching over to ruffle his slightly greasy hair before standing; he grinned widely at this.
"And Kiyoshi," she added, her voice trailing off somewhat "if that big man tries to do anything to you, you come right to me okay? I'll make him leave. Promise me, okay?"
The level of seriousness her voice took alerted the small boy to her words, and he nodded in understanding.
She let her eyes linger on his form, his attention now rapt into the game he had been previously playing.
She found it hard to keep up her ever crumbling façade around the little boy who lived a floor beneath her.
Memories rushed at her without warning, seeming to attack her from all sides. She stumbled down the hall, further away from the little boy, whimpering lowly as she pressed her palms against her eyelids hard enough to make flashes of white dance before her eyes.
She forced down the images, gasping for air, her skin now slick with sweat.
A memory long concealed in layers of black paint, thick as tar threatened to corrupt her mind but she pushed savagely against it, gradually moving her hands from her eyes to press against her palpitating heart.
She sat hunched over, legs apart eyes trained on the clump of people before her. The strangely comforting company of Sai was ever present next to her as hollow green eyes glanced sporadically across the jumble of adrenaline-fueled bodies.
Their surroundings were dismal, currently residing in the lowest level of an abandoned parking garage, a few cars looking to be on their last leg peppered the far end of the expanse; dim light filtering in from the few slashes cut into the cement wall that encased them.
Sakura licked her dry lips, wincing almost unnoticeably as she grazed the cut that lingered menacingly.
She thanked whatever small deity took pity on her that she wasn't scheduled to fight too soon. Usually this was problematic, but with the money she had recently won she had managed to pay off her more important bills and buy a pretty good amount of food with everlasting expiration dates.
So that begs the question as to why she was there. Mainly because it was her life, almost all the fighters that were huddled around each other's lives revolved around the crude lifestyle.
You came down to watch the fights whenever they were, if you didn't want to be blindsided by some strange martial art style the newcomer had.
You came to watch every fight with a sharp eye, to remember who broke a rib, or had their jaw dislocated so you could use the injury to your advantage if you got paired up with them soon enough.
Hell, they all wanted the money; for Sakura it sometimes meant the difference of being able to buy food or having to pick through garbage cans for anything to satiate the hunger that would ebb away at her stomach.
Sometimes she didn't care if she stepped on a persons already broken fingers if it meant she would be able to pay her rent that month, so she wouldn't have to wander the streets in search of a safe place to hole away for the night.
Did it mean that they were monsters, or thrown down to the level of wild animals, signaling out their opponents' weak point and going after it savagely, without a guilty thought?
Sometimes she thought so. Most of the time she tried not to put too much effort into thinking about it.
The crowd was larger tonight, almost twice its usual size in both fighters and onlookers, Sakura sat stiff as a rod in result.
She felt Sai's gaze on her; she was pretty sure the only thing that gave away her distressed nature at the moment was the vice like grip she held the edge of the stone pillar she was currently sitting on.
She never felt anxious around him, though this was largely due to the fact that from whatever had happened in Sai's life prior to this, the ability to read most emotions seemed lost to him.
He would try to act comforting when her indications of stress were extremely noticeable or if she was injured, but mostly he came across as a pitiful shell of a person, a shadow of what he should have been.
Sakura often felt guilty at the fact that she was usually glad about this, how he couldn't see how awkward or distressed she really was.
Perhaps the fact that both of them didn't feel particularly whole made them cling desperately to some semblance of a relationship, even if it was undefined and not exactly normal.
A tug of war seemed to go on between them at times, before the rope snapped; and then one would try to heft the other back up to continue, despite their complete lack of strength.
"I hate new blood." Sakura finally said, turning her body towards Sai, propping one leg underneath her.
The boys' dark eyes turned to look towards her before replying evenly, "Don't worry, I know most of them. From when I used to fight down in the Southern District, I'm betting most of them will be ranked above you."
Sai had briefly glossed over how he used to live in a different district before coming up to the Western sector of the city. He pissed off the wrong gang member, or something and moved. Her mind was hazy about the details, not that they mattered too much.
She narrowed her eyes as the clusters of unfamiliar people before hissing out harshly, "But why are they here?"
Sai shrugged, Sakura seethed.
They found out soon enough though, flits of gossip passing from mouth to ear, down the chain like a writhing snake.
Apparently something involving the police getting to close to their ring, the ring leaders deciding to combine the two in some sort of round up. This was no doubt going to boost the popularity for a bit, unfamiliar fights matched with unknown faces made everything shiny and new.
She just hoped they classed them well enough; some of those guys looked like hell had bred and raised them.
"Oh, hey, I know him." Sai murmured out. Sakura couldn't really tell which person Sai was pointing out; they were all kind of blurring together at this point.
She wondered mildly if he was socially despondent as well, speculating if that was a rule to be connected with Sai, or if she was just the only one to take advantage of his unknowing.
Sakura was slightly interested as to which person it was, but couldn't muster up the courage to get him to point them out; it seemed a bit brazen, even intimate.
Maybe Sai didn't wasn't her to know people from his past. She sure as hell wouldn't want Sai nosing around the people she used to hang around.
A few more minutes of scuffling, as names were being drawn and recorded onto paper for the people of interest, giving time to call out bets as the group of fighters finally broke out of their clump, organizing themselves into those who were fighting, the others wandering around the find a place with a decent view.
"Huh, looks like he's not fighting, mind if I bring him over?" Sai questioned. Even though Sai's voice was the epitome of monotone Sakura eyed him warily.
Did that mean Sai got along with him well then? She wondered what the equivalent of Sai getting along with someone was.
She was going to tell him that she didn't really care, but had discovered he had already disappeared from his earlier perch.
She tore her eyes away from the array of people and instead turned her focus on the makeshift ring, two forms entering.
It started quick and ended dirty, the smaller man having shoved his thumb into the others eye to get out from under a torrent of punches.
Sakura winced, remembering her own experience similar; her attacker had missed her eye at least - this party wasn't as lucky.
A throaty voice rang out callously against her ear, grating on her senses in a peculiar way. Her mind had translated the words a second later though; "what a little bitch."
She only guessed that he was talking about the one who had disregarded the rules. She heard Sai's familiar voice murmur something in agreement, and turned her head towards him.
She presumed the new presence was his…well, she didn't quite know. Acquaintance?
He was peculiar looking, though he didn't jump out at you from a crowd. His skin was some kind of pallor she couldn't name. Like an exotic kind of porcelain she'd be afraid to touch for fear of it cracking.
Messy strands of auburn hair laced across his face, eyes were narrowed, though hints of a foreign color peeked through. His features seemed a contradiction, delicate, but in a barbaric sort of way.
Perhaps in was just the way he had his face positioned, in some kind of revolted sneer. She couldn't help shrinking back slightly.
She started as Sai vaulted himself back onto the stone ledge next to Sakura and the newcomer watched almost questioningly.
There was a bit of an argument going on in the ring, people shouting and screaming out curses, she knew from experience a new fight would start soon enough, you just had to be patient.
She faintly heard the familiar voice of Sai conversing with the newer body as she let her eyes drop to her lap, fingers still held the tight grip to the wall.
Sakura finally let her eyes travel so she could peek from her peripheral vision. To say she was a bit shell shocked would be an understatement.
It had really just been her and Sai for a couple of months and she had grown complacent with that arrangement.
Her eyes traced over the strands of dark red that fell past his ears. It was a curious color, though it didn't scream out for attention, almost blending into a hue of brunette.
To be honest, she could classify it as pretty. She didn't think the owner of said hair would appreciate that particular comment, though.
Everything about him seemed dry, a lightness that did nothing but make people abhor it, like a vast desert; his eyes a mirage of color, a fleeting misinterpretation of hope – the evidence of this being the heavy, dark bags of black brushed beneath.
She sat in the same stiff position until the last brawl had ended – still as a board, knuckles stained white from the strain.
Sai was one thing, she could give him the most threadbare smile and he would lap it up like a dog, she didn't need someone with a basic understanding of human emotions moving their way into her small social scene.
Sai was enough. Sai was plenty.
She was shaken from her reverie, though, as someone bumped at her shoulder.
She pulled away out of instinct, glaring daggers at the intruder. It turned out to just be Sai and she relaxed.
He offered up some sort of butchered version of a smile towards her and she suppressed a shudder, watching him as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Sakura, this is Gaara – I knew him a while back." He informed her.
Sakura gave a slight nod, eyes turning towards the unfamiliar boy, his hands shoved into the pockets of a worn looking black jacket, shoulders hunched eyes full of distance.
His appearance reassured her; at least, it seemed, he didn't want anything to do with her, either.
The old, etched in lines of politeness she had been raised with resurfaced, like a bad gag reflex and she murmured out; "good to meet you."
He looked stricken, like a deer in headlights, before nodding hastily, angling his body away from her in the process.
She decided that you did, indeed, need to have some sort of social imparity to be an acquaintance of Sai.
Speaking of, Sai stood there the whole time, nodding like they were having an in depth conversation on some vastly important subject matter.
What a freak.
While she couldn't help feeling curious about Gaara, and she knew she couldn't afford it.
Curiosity killed the cat, and she didn't have any extra lives to spare.
"I'm gonna head home." She informed Sai, finally allowing her body to drop to the ground, flexing sore muscles as she landed.
He nodded to her before speaking, "Don't come late next fight, I got pulled."
He flared her another horrible substitution of a grin, and Sakura excused herself at that.
As she left, she threw a wary look behind her shoulder, eyes caught Gaara's as he stared back, and she marveled at the shade.
The only way she could think to describe them was of a murky sea; she couldn't help but feel like she was ten feet below the surface, upside down and struggling to breath.
And she knew that Gaara wasn't waiting on the other side to help pull her out.
For anyone who was reading my other GaaSaku, I'm sorry for deleting it but I just couldn't stand that story, though I am genuinely excited about this one, and I hope you guys liked it as well.
Please, please, please, review. Reviews make me ridiculously happy - you have no idea. Sorry for any grammatical errors, I re-read it probably ten times, but I'm sure some slipped through regardless.
Let me know how you liked the story, feedback lets me know what parts you liked and what you didn't. And if anyone's wondering about their ages, Sakura is 22, and Gaara is 24. In case I forget to mention it later on.