Gaara sat silently at the desk in his bedroom. Every muscle in his body was tensed, making his posture stiff. His shoulders were hunched. He stared vacantly out of the window, not focussing on anything in particular. There were high winds this evening, and powerful gusts ripped through the empty streets, howling and screaming. A sandstorm was on its way.
It had been a day since Naoko had left Suna. Twenty-four hours almost exact to the minute. It had given Gaara enough time to realise that this was real. Naoko meant what she said. She'd left, and she wouldn't be coming back. Up until this point he'd dared to keep a little hope that maybe she would realise her mistake and return, but now, after 24 hours, he knew his hopes were in vain. She'd be miles away by now. She'd probably crossed the border and left the Land of Wind completely.
Gaara hadn't slept at all. He'd spent his working hours locked away in his office, avoiding human contact as much as he could. Temari had insisted on stopping by a couple of times and tried desperately to comfort her little brother. But it was hopeless. A wall had gone up around him, separating him from the rest of the world and her words couldn't get through to him. The only one who could bring him back was Naoko, and she was long gone. Gaara was impossible to reason with in the depths of his grief. He saw Temari's efforts to comfort him as a nuisance. He'd returned to his cold, brooding persona, and a quiet, deadly anger sat dormant beneath his seemingly emotionless surface. It frightened Temari. She hadn't seen her little brother like this since Yashamaru's betrayal.
Naoko had left behind one of her tools in her rush to leave Suna. A small screwdriver. It was now sat on Gaara's desk. He stared at it. He tried to organise his emotions. Love, hate, pain, worry, confusion and helplessness all formed a surging torrent in his chest, each emotion battling the others for dominance. Needless to say it hurt. It was the most sickening pain Gaara could ever have imagined, and one that his sand couldn't protect him from. He'd managed to block it out somewhat throughout the day, but now that he was alone in his room, the emotions resumed their merciless attack on his exhausted psyche.
"We're the same, Gaara…"
That's what she'd said. If that was true, then surely she must be suffering as much as he was right now. One half of his mind flinched at that thought, hating the idea of Naoko suffering all on her own, and he yearned to comfort her. The other half of his mind launched its counter attack: It was her own fault, she was to blame. He hoped she was suffering unbearably for what she'd done to him. He knew that she would have been risking a lot if she'd stayed in Suna. He understood her fear. He understood it, but he could not accept it.
He'd fallen hard for her. In a matter of days the feeling had ambushed him, capturing his heart off guard in a vice-like grip. And now she'd disappeared just as quickly as she'd arrived. He was left bewildered, stunned at how fast love could take hold before leaving him stranded in the eerie silence and devastation left in its wake. He cursed himself for his stupidity, his vulnerability, his recklessness. He'd been careless and taken a risk. It was so out of character for him. He regretted it bitterly and yet, he'd give anything to have her back. Anything.
His thoughts turned to Yashamaru.
"Wounds of the heart are troublesome. They are extremely slow to heal. Unlike wounds of the body, there are no medicines that can cure them…and sometimes they never heal…
…There is just one thing that can heal the wounds of the heart, but you can only receive it from someone else…Its Love, Gaara."
Gaara pondered Yashamaru's words. You fucking liar Yashamaru, he thought. You lied. Yashamaru had said love was supposed to mend a broken heart, not create one. A tear rolled down Gaara's pale cheek. It was the first tear to escape him in years. He smudged it away bitterly.
He heard the bedroom door open behind him. He didn't turn around. He knew it was Temari, interfering again.
"Go away Temari" he growled.
Soft footsteps padded across the carpet towards him. A gentle hand stroked his hair.
"I SAID FUCK OFF"
The hands moved to his shoulders and gave a little squeeze.
"I couldn't do it, Gaara. I couldn't leave."
His body jolted. He knew that voice. It wasn't Temari's. It was Naoko's.
He froze, not wanting to turn around in case he was mistaken. Maybe it was just his imagination. Nevertheless, he slowly turned his head. The small body, the tangled black hair, the anxious green eyes: It was Naoko. His heart seemed to stop beating. He couldn't believe his eyes. She'd come back.
His first impulse was to embrace her. His second was to reject her. Not knowing which impulse to follow, he stood up, turning around to face her. She looked terrible. Tears stained her face, and sand stuck to the moistness. Her clothes were torn and there were cuts and scratches laced over the exposed soft skin. One knee was badly grazed.
"I ran all the way back here to be with you. I'm so sorry Gaara. I'm so sorry I even thought of leaving. Please forgive me. I need you so much…" her voice trailed off to a whisper as she saw the Kazekage's blank expression.
She couldn't bear it. She ran at him, burrowing into him so forcefully that he almost fell backwards. She pulled his hands up around her, but as soon as she let go they fell back to his sides limply. She understood his reluctance. Afterall, she'd abandoned him. She looked up at him.
"Please Gaara. Even if they find me and…k…kill me…It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. I love you."
She pressed her face against him and cried. Cried with regret for hurting him so. Cried with exhaustion.
He softened. She'd come back to him. She was risking her life to be with him. He looked down at her sore, trembling body. He couldn't punish her anymore. He wrapped his arms around her.
"I hate you" he whispered, holding her tight.
A little while passed, and they were now in the bathroom. Naoko was perched on the edge of the bathtub and Gaara was knelt down tending to her wounds. He gently applied a bandage to her gashed knee.
"I didn't think you'd come back" he said quietly.
"When you spend your whole life fearing death, you never really live" she explained. "But then I met you, and I realised I wanted to live. And I couldn't run away from that…from you"
He suddenly felt a little guilty for expecting her to stay with him at the risk of her life. He grimaced. It was his absolute duty to protect her at all costs. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her. He stood up and effortlessly lifted the exhausted engineer into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom. He laid her down gently on the bed.
"I've never known anyone who causes me as much stress as you do. Even Shukaku was easier to handle." He grumbled.
She giggled. "But you're glad I'm back?"
He switched off the light before climbing into bed with her.
"Do you need to ask?" he replied.
She smiled as they settled into a warm embrace beneath the bedsheets.
"I wonder…can I trust you?" he asked.
"What do you mean? Of course you can trust me" she said, sounding a little hurt.
"So you won't go disappearing off somewhere?" he continued.
"No"
"No more running?"
"No more running. I promise."
He pulled her into a soft kiss.
"Just to warn you, if you do, it won't just be the Saito clan hunting you down."
She laughed at his threat.
"I mean it. They'll be the least of your worries."
"Believe me, I know…I've seen you when you're angry" she joked.
Gaara had intended to go straight to sleep- afterall, having not slept, he was just as exhausted as Naoko- but from the way she was stroking his body he realised she had other ideas. Not that he objected of course. In fact, he willingly obliged. He made love tenderly to his beloved runaway before settling into a peaceful sleep. After a ridiculous 24 hours, Naoko was back where she should be- in his arms.