A Note: Dudes, I am so sorry this took so long. I had a major case of the blocks. The good news is, I think I'm back on track, so hopefully the next update won't be weeks in coming. Also, this chapter totally breached the 5,000 words mark, so you at least get a longer chapter this time. Enjoy!

Warning: There is some mild sexual content in this chapter. Also, Gaara is getting more and more out of character, for which I apologize profusely. I'm just having too much fun teasing him!

Naruto belongs to Kishimoto.

Chapter 5

Gaara paced back and forth in his office, impatient for Temari to get back from whatever task she had been assigned for the first portion of the chunin exams. They had begun that morning; all the students were required to sit for a traditional written exam, as usual. Some trick or other was always employed to make it seem as though intelligence was necessary to pass, but all that was really needed were some basic shinobi skill—mainly the ability to lie or cheat their little asses off.

His sister must have been proctoring, as she wasn't in charge of the written portion, but the next—and far more deadly—maze portion of the exam. Nevertheless, the written exam could take hours, and Gaara's patience was wearing thin. He had decided, reluctantly, that it was finally time to discuss his burgeoning feelings for Sakura to someone, and his trustworthy and close-mouthed sister seemed as good a candidate as any. He knew she wouldn't tell Kankuro, who was, at the moment, the main person he did not want finding out about his little crush. Well, him and that damned Uchiha.

He couldn't say exactly what it was that had made him decide it was time to confess his feelings to a third party, with the obvious exception of one too many arousing morning yoga sessions. Waking up early to practice yoga with Sakura was giving a whole new meaning to the term "morning wood," and Gaara was relatively certain that if he didn't do something soon, he would spontaneously combust.

He had discovered over the past week that he was extremely thankful shinobi wore loose, breathable clothing, for if he wore anything like Sakura's delectable outfits (which he was also rather thankful for and which got decidedly more scandalous with each passing day), he would have been subject to a multitude of embarrassing situations unfitting for any self-respecting male, let alone the leader of an entire hidden village.

Just that morning, Gaara's situation had become so severe that he almost excused himself early to take care of it. The memory still brought a flush to his cheeks and sent his blood rushing quickly south. He had resolved, therefore, to stop thinking of it altogether, which resulted in him thinking about it pretty much constantly.

It was always the damn downward dog that started everything. It was her favorite pose, and Sakura used it during warm up stretches, sun salutes, transitions, ending stretches... It seemed she was prepared to thrust her ass in the air at any given moment, legs apart, face to the floor, body in a perfect "V". It sent Gaara's mind into a whirlwind, imagining other positions he wouldn't mind giving a try.

Then she would touch him. Adjusting poses, straightening limbs, bending his torso in the right direction, feather-light touches of encouragement, firm nudges of praise, even violently corrective holds—Sakura was forever touching him, and it did nothing to help control his errant thoughts.

Every day he resolved to keep his mind out of the gutter and on the task of learning a valuable new training tool, but at the first sight of Sakura's pert, round bottom in revealing shorts, his resolutions flew out the window. He would inevitably spend the rest of the session daydreaming scenarios in which she would end up in similar poses, but around, on top of, or underneath him.

That morning, though, had taken the cake. It had started as every other did, with Sakura stretching innocently and Gaara gritting his teeth at the tightening in his groin, trying to follow her lead without looking like a moron or staring inappropriately. She informed him they would be working on balance, both because that trait in particular was useful for shinobi and because Gaara's sense of balance was atrocious.

"We'll start with tree pose. It's super basic, so you shouldn't have any trouble, ok?"

She turned on her mat to demonstrate and Gaara rolled his eyes. Normal people might not have trouble, but Gaara was a special case. As an accomplished shinobi, not to mention political figurehead, people expected him to be poised and composed at all times. Usually, he could maintain a facade of serenity with his sand there to keep him from making a fool of himself.

In actuality, it was because he had grown up with the sand shield that he was such an enormous klutz—he relied on it to a fault. And it was because of the sand that up until the yoga lessons began, not a soul knew about his clumsiness apart from Shukaku. But because he refrained from using his sand during their lessons (if he used it, he wouldn't really be learning anything), Sakura had quickly discovered his lack of dexterity. And now that she knew about his unfortunate condition, she was determined to rectify it. It made for a lot of humiliating moments, and Gaara had a feeling things were about to get a lot worse.

Sakura straightened her back and gracefully moved her leg, resting her left foot on the inside of her right thigh.

"You can keep your arms down for now. When you feel comfortable, go ahead and put them above your head, like this," she explained, moving her arms as she did so.

Gaara straightened up, lifted his leg as she had, tried to reach the inside of his thigh, and promptly fell over. He cursed and she turned, shaking her head.

"What happened?"

"Oh, you know," he said. "I just thought I might be more comfortable trying it out down here."

She grinned as he pulled himself upright to try again. "Let me see you do it," she demanded.

He resisted the urge roll his eyes again, slowly lifting his foot to bring it to his leg. He could feel himself losing balance and windmilled his arms comically in a desperate effort to remain standing. Sakura grabbed his hands and pulled him forward so he wouldn't fall. He scowled at her and held his hands palm up in a "see what I have to work with" gesture. This time she rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay, it's obvious that we're going to have to take it slower. Instead of putting your foot on your thigh, try resting it on your calf. Once you master that, we can move on to something harder."

She moved back to her mat and resumed her position while Gaara did as she suggested. He stumbled a few times, but for the most part she was right; it was easier. They spent awhile perfecting the pose and after ten minutes, Gaara could not only hold the position without falling, he could do it with his arms above his head.

"I feel like an idiot," he told her, arms beginning to go numb from holding them in the same position.

"Well, you don't look like an idiot," she assured him, taking in his rigid posture. "You look very... graceful."

Gaara narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "I'm so sure," he quipped, lowering his arms and leg.

"You don't have to believe me, you just have to do it right," she rejoined, reaching down to straighten her mat. "Anyway, I think you're ready for something a bit more challenging. You think that made you look like an idiot, wait until you see this one."

"Oh... goody," he enthused. Sakura ignored him.

"Now, this position is actually one of three warrior poses. We've done warrior two before; this is just a variation on that. It takes a little bit of work getting into it, because if you try to go straight into it, you're more likely to fall. Just watch me first, and then you can give it a go."

Gaara crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his full attention. Sakura stood straight again and lifted her arms above her head, palms together. She lifted her leg so that her thigh was parallel with her waist. Slowly, she lowered her arms, straightening them so they were shoulder-height. She lifted the raised leg behind her, lowering her torso simultaneously. The result was Sakura standing stock still on one leg, chest and arms thrust out for balance, her right leg behind her and parallel with the ground.

Gaara looked at her like she was crazy.

"You have got to be kidding," he scoffed. "There is no way I'm doing that."

Sakura straightened and propped her hands on her hips. Her eyes flashed in mounting frustration and Gaara thought she had never looked more beautiful.

"You will do it and you will like it," she commanded.

Gaara assumed she had bullied more than one rookie shinobi into doing her bidding with that expression, but unfortunately for her, he was not one to be cowed. He came with his own stubborn streak that had served him well over the years.

"I absolutely will not."

She stepped closer. "Gaara," she said in a warning tone, "how will you ever get better if you don't try?" She was gritting her teeth and grimacing in a way that would have lesser men ducking for cover.

"Look," he began, raising his hands in a placating manner, "I'm sure that this pose is great for balance and all that, but I just don't think it's for me."

Sakura growled at him (growled! He rejoiced inwardly; she was sexy when she growled) and stepped closer again, invading his mat and personal space, thrusting her cute little nose into his face.

"And why not?" she ground out.

He rested his hands on her shoulders and stymied the urge to rub her arms.

"Sakura, sometimes I have trouble balancing in these crazy poses on two feet. Asking me to try that is like asking Naruto to go a full day without saying 'dattebayo'."

She rolled her eyes, but her gaze softened. She turned those big green eyes on him and put a sweet, simpering look on her face. Apparently she was going to try a different tactic. Gaara braced himself as she leaned a bit closer, quirking her head to the side and leaning into his embrace. The tips of her breasts just barely skimmed his chest.

"Will you try it for me, then?" she pleaded.

Gaara's breath started to come in little pants and he was getting dizzy. He would try anything to get her away from him right now. He could feel goose bumps forming on his arms and the place where her chest touched his burned. He pushed her away firmly, still holding her shoulders at arms' length.

"Sure. For you," he said, shooting for a nonchalant tone, but his voice coming out high and strained. Sakura beamed.

"I'll stay right here to help you in case you get wobbly," she said.

"Right. 'Cause that's better."

"You know," she said as he readied himself, straightening his posture and stepping back on his mat, "you're awfully sassy, Kazekage-kun. You never used to be this sarcastic."

"Oh no," he assured her, lifting his leg and holding out his arms, "I really was always this sarcastic. Usually, I just respond to people in my head instead of out loud."

"So, does it mean anything that you've taken to responding sarcastically to me out loud?" Sakura's hands were hovering next to his waist, waiting for him to stumble.

"Um..." Gaara pursed his lips, trying to concentrate on not falling and answering her without giving anything away at the same time. He could feel his precarious balance faltering.

"Now try to straighten that back leg," she instructed. Gaara did as he was told, grounded leg shaking and face pointing to the ground.

"You were saying?" Sakura asked.

"What?"

Gaara was starting to sweat. The morning sun was getting hot, he was in a completely unnatural and uncomfortable position with the girl of his dreams standing right in front of him, he was in danger of falling on his ass like an idiot, and she was practically demanding that he confess his feelings for her. It was the stuff nightmares were made from.

"Your out-loud sarcasm. Does it mean anything?" she prompted.

"Oh." A bead of sweat rolled off the end of Gaara's nose. He watched it fall and plop onto his mat. "I guess it means... I trust you," he ground out.

Sakura jumped a bit, as if startled. "Really?" she squealed, ducking and looking up at his downturned face. She was right there. Her nose was inches from his, her eyes were wide and delighted, and her pretty pink mouth was within kissing distance. It was too much.

Gaara stumbled, losing his tenuous grip on stability and pitching forward onto Sakura. His yoga mat slid back and he sunk to his knees in the soft, warm sand, Sakura stretched beneath him with a leg between his knees and her breasts flush with his chest.

"Oh!" she cried, "I got sand in my eyes!" She blinked furiously to rid herself of the offending particles. Gaara watched her with wide eyes, taking stock of the situation and trying not to panic.

Sakura reached a hand between them to rub her eyes, but Gaara stopped her with a quick movement, trapping her wrists.

"Don't rub," he told her throatily. "It'll make it worse."

"It hurts," she whined, still blinking, tears running down her face.

"Here, hold on," he said. Pushing her hands back into the sand, Gaara leaned closer and blew gently on her face, blowing the sand away from her eyes. He had never done anything so sensual to another human being in his life. After a moment, he stopped, but didn't lean back.

"Better?" he asked. She blinked a few more times before opening her eyes, which glistened from the tears.

"Yes, thank you," she whispered breathily.

Gaara said nothing, choosing instead to gaze at her with a blush steadily climbing on his face and resting on the tips of his ears. Sakura, realizing their position, flushed as well, jerking suddenly and moving her knee closer, accidentally coming directly into contact with Gaara.

He felt himself grow hard and couldn't stop a groan from escaping; he actually almost rolled his hips at the wonderful sensation. He had gone too long without stimulation after days of being aroused in Sakura's presence. This was too much; he had to move now.

"I'm so sorry!" she gasped. "Did I hurt you?"

He was in pain, all right, just not the kind she was thinking.

"I'm fine," he grunted, rolling carefully off her so as not to come into any more contact with her than necessary. He stood quickly, turning around to brush the sand off and arrange his shirt to hide the evidence of his arousal.

"I... I should go," he said, walking toward the gate without gathering his things or looking back at Sakura.

"No, Gaara, please," she pleaded, "please wait. I'm sorry!"

He stopped, breathing deeply and trying to collect his scattered wits. He had almost made another colossal mistake; this was getting totally out of hand. He had to do something soon.

"It's getting late."

"No, Gaara, come on. Please stay. I didn't mean to embarrass you! We won't do anymore balancing, I promise. Please let's just finish?" she begged. Gaara turned to look at her. She looked close to tears and seemed desperate for him to stay. He heaved a sigh and started walking back.

"Okay, let's finish," he agreed.

Gaara groaned at the memory. Each day he was in close proximity with her, he became more in danger of kissing her brains out. Not to mention he was sure that having his hormone levels in constant overdrive couldn't be healthy. He checked the clock on the wall again, wondering for the umpteenth time what could possibly be taking Temari so long. As if on cue, his door opened and his sister stepped in.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, shutting the door behind her.

"I need your help," he began.

"So what was it you needed advice on again?" Ino asked as she and Sakura rolled bandages in the hospital supply room.

"Boys," Sakura said, finishing the roll she was on and picking up a new one. They were spending the afternoon preparing for the maze exam that would start the next morning. Not only did the hospital need to have supplies prepared for the genin's packs, they needed to have extras available for those who would inevitably be injured during the trial.

"Ooooh," Ino exclaimed excitedly, setting down her roll and turning to face Sakura completely. She crossed her arms and sat back, preparing for girl talk. "Do you like Sasuke-kun again? 'Cause I saw him the other night and he was totally all over you," she gushed.

"No, Pig, I don't like Sasuke again. I told you I was over that ages ago." She bit her lip and stopped rolling, setting the bandages next to Ino's partially-completed pile. "The person I'm thinking of is a little more distinguished than Sasuke. And a lot more unattainable."

"No," Ino gasped, eyes alight with pleasure and the promise of juicy gossip. "Don't tell me you're crushing on the kazekage," she practically squealed and Sakura quickly shushed her, motioning for her to quiet down with both hands.

"Shut up," she hissed, "I don't want people finding out about it, ok?"

"But Forehead! Oh, I can't even believe it! This is so much better than you crushing on Sasuke!"

"Don't tell anyone," Sakura repeated sternly. "I'm telling you this because I trust you, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ino responded, waving away her concern."So, do you think he likes you back? You have been spending an awful lot of time together." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"I... I think he might," Sakura confided, blushing heavily. Ino threw her hands into the air.

"So then what's the problem?" she shouted.

"Ino, please," Sakura shushed again. "I think... well, I think Kankuro might like me, too."

Ino pursed her lips, affecting concern. "Hmmm. That could be a problem. Two brothers, one girl." She thought for a moment. "I don't suppose you'd consider having them both?"

"NO! Ino!"

"Sor-ry, it was just a thought," Ino said moodily. "I mean, geez, they're both gorgeous."

"That is not the problem," Sakura scolded.

"I know, I know. So, do you like Kankuro, too?"

"Well, I thought so at first and I do like him a lot. He's nice, super fun, and really sweet, but, it's just... Gaara," she finished lamely.

"I know, Forehead, I know. If I thought I could get him, I'd totally go for it," Ino sighed lustily.

"Geez, thanks, Pig. I just told you I had a crush on him," Sakura said sarcastically.

"I know you did, and I'm telling you, that is one hot piece of man. That curly red hair...mmmm. Gorgeous," she explained without remorse.

"I get it," Sakura snapped. "But what should I do?"

"What do you mean 'what should you do'?" Ino shrieked. "You like him, he likes you, what's the problem? Drag him off, have your wicked, wicked way with him, and live happily ever after. Problem solved."

"Uh, no," Sakura refused. "First of all, that's what you would do, not me. Second of all, I kind of meant, what should I do about two very competitive brothers liking me, and me not really being sure how I feel about either of them. I don't want to cause trouble or hurt anyone's feelings."

"Don't want to cause problems, huh?" Ino picked up her bandages and began rolling again. "You never said anything about not causing trouble, Forehead. That makes things much more difficult."

"No shit," Sakura grumbled, picking up her own roll.

"I don't suppose having both of them at the same time, if you catch my meaning, is an option?"

"Uh, no. And the guy in the coma in Room 314 catches your meaning, Pig," Sakura rolled her eyes.

"What can I say?" Ino quipped, shrugging her shoulders. "Subtlety isn't my strong suit."

"No shit."

"What should I do?" Gaara cried, throwing his arms in the air without stopping his pacing. He was giving Temari a headache.

"Well, first of all, you should calm down," she admonished. "You're gonna wear a hole in your carpet at this rate."

"I don't care about the damn carpet! This situation is way past being out of my control, and I don't like it," he grumbled, stopping his pacing anyway and collapsing with a huff in his office chair.

Temari smirked at his frustration, trying to hide it behind her hand to avoid another explosion. He was acting more like a love-struck teenager than the leader he was. She supposed this is what came from forcing fifteen-year-olds to run villages and command armies without allowing them a social life. That, and hating them during their tender childhood years. Gaara was forced to do all his growing up now.

"Gaara, getting a crush on someone is rarely within anyone's control. It's just sort of something that happens. It'll be fine."

"Were you not listening," he growled, sounding slightly hysterical. "I'm pretty much in a constant state of sexual frustration over here. Something has to be done. I can't concentrate on the chunin exams!"

"Okay, first of all," Temari began, a grimace on her face, "way too much information. Second, you do know there are things you can do to fix that problem, right?"

It was Gaara's turn to grimace. "That was too much information. I don't need a sex ed course; I'm perfectly aware of how the human body works—"

"Could have fooled me," Temari muttered.

"—and furthermore," Gaara continued as if she'd never spoken, "I just meant that I have to get these feelings under control before I attack the poor girl or something."

"Alright," Temari sighed, running her hands over her face. It had been a long day. "Why don't you try telling her how you feel."

Gaara looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

"Are you kidding me? That's your solution? I could have thought of that myself. And anyway, that won't work," he griped.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to tell her how I feel, for one. And for another, I have no idea whether she likes me back."

"Gaara," Temari sighed again, "sometimes you have to take a risk and tell the girl first. Have you been given any indication that she doesn't like you?"

"Well," he hedged, "I don't think so. But I'm not really sure." Gaara refused to look at Temari, staring into his lap and fiddling with the edge of his shirt. She fought back a groan.

"Here's what you need to do." He looked up eagerly.

"You need to get some indication of how she feels about you. That way you'll know whether to say anything, and either way you can get some kind of closure and move on."

Gaara grimaced. Apparently, she mused, this wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"I have no idea how to go about doing that," he told her stoically.

"Gaara," she frowned, "there are lots of things you can do. You can give her a gift, ask her on a date, hell, you can talk to her friends. I don't know! I'm not an expert on this! Why don't you ask Kankuro, he knows all about getting girls to like him."

"No!" Gaara shouted, almost too quickly. "I don't want to ask Kankuro. And don't you tell him about this! I only told you because I knew you wouldn't tell anyone."

"I won't tell him," she began slowly, "but why exactly don't you want him to know you like her?"

Gaara went back to fiddling with his shirt, avoiding the question as long as possible. Temari waited him out.

"I'm pretty sure he likes her, too," he finally said miserably.

Temari barely fought back the scowl that threatened to surface. This was not a situation she relished being caught in the middle of.

"What makes you think he likes her?" she questioned carefully.

"He's always touching her and hanging around her. Plus, the other night when we went out and that damned Uchiha was all over her, he didn't look too happy about it."

"Kankuro's always touching and hanging off everyone. And maybe he just doesn't like Uchiha Sasuke. Not many people do," she soothed.

"Maybe," he muttered wretchedly.

"I have a better idea," Temari said brightly, hoping to cheer him up. "Why don't you go talk to Naruto. He has a girlfriend and he's close to Sakura. He might have some ideas and you know he isn't trying to get her too."

"I thought of that... the problem is, while Naruto's plenty trustworthy, he's also plenty loud." Gaara shuddered at the thought of everyone visiting from Konoha overhearing about his infatuation on accident.

"I really don't know what to tell you, then, little brother. You've rejected all my best ideas."

"If those were your best ideas, you really need to get back to the drawing board," he grumbled.

The rude gesture she gave him in response did nothing to bolster his enthusiasm.

Sakura hummed happily as she tested her antidote yet again against Kankuro's poison. The evening sun shone into the glass windows of the greenhouse, lighting everything with a pretty orange glow and making Sakura look like some unearthly being, her pink hair glinting. Kankuro stared at her dreamily, ignoring his own experiment in favor of watching her work.

"I think I've almost got this," she said excitedly. He shook his head to break out of his daze and smiled winningly at her.

"That's great! When do you think we'll be ready for a live test?" he asked eagerly.

"Not for at least another couple of days. I have to be on call tomorrow during the maze part of the exam—they don't want anyone to die—and I would rather you not poison yourself to death," she explained.

"I already told you I should be able to control it with my chakra. I'm sure it will be fine," he said nonchalantly.

Sakura grimaced. "I'm not really willing to take that chance with your life. You'll just have to wait."

Inwardly, Kankuro cheered at her concern, though he was fairly certain she would have been that way with anyone.

"Alright, fine," he conceded, leaning against the lab bench. "You almost done here?"

"Yep. Let's clean up and get back to the mansion. I'm exhausted."

Kankuro helped her clean their mess and store their potions, making sure they were carefully marked and the storage cabinet locked before leaving the greenhouse. As they walked, she chattered about her day, gesturing animatedly, and he tried to stretch inconspicuously, letting his arm drape over her shoulder as he brought it down. She glanced at it quickly and he was afraid for a moment that she would ask him to move it, but instead she just left it there and continued talking as if nothing had happened. He couldn't stop the grin that stole over his face.

He held the door open for her and when she walked through the doors to the mansion first he lamented the loss of contact. Walking close to her as they wandered upstairs to the bedrooms, he broached a topic he'd been wanting to address for several days.

"So, Sakura," he began. She looked at him with those big green eyes of hers and he could feel his breath catching in his throat. She was so beautiful.

"It's my birthday this weekend and I'm thinking of throwing a big party when everyone's here. Do you think you'll be able to come with me?"

"It's your birthday?" she squealed, excitement blooming over her features. "Oh my gosh! Of course I'll come!"

He smiled, relishing her excitement, but wanted to make doubly sure she understood his meaning before he let her go for the night.

"That's great!" he gushed. "I mean, I was sure you would come and all…" he trailed off, steeling his nerves for what he was about to say. He felt a little foolish; he was never this nervous around girls.

"But, I just mean… well," he stammered. She just kept gazing at him with those eyes, those wonderful, wonderful eyes, and he gulped anxiously.

"Well, I was just hoping you would come… as my date," he finished quickly, staring hopefully into her eyes. Maybe if he looked pathetic enough she wouldn't turn him down.

"Oh…" Sakura faltered, looking a bit uncertain. "Well… I mean…" she glanced first one way, then the other, down the hall and Kankuro was certain she was going to say no. He prepared himself to be disappointed, feeling his heart crushing a bit.

"Of course I'll go as your date!" she finished, smiling at him.

"I understand," he said miserably, "I'm sure you have someone you… what? You'll come?" he asked excitedly, his brain finally catching up with his mouth.

"Well, sure. I don't have any other plans, and you asked first," she assured him. While not quite the answer he was looking for, Kankuro would take what he could get.

"Great! That's great!" he enthused. "We're gonna have a blast! I totally won't let you down!" And before he could think about the consequences or worry that she might not appreciate the gesture, Kankuro swooped down on her small form, gave her a quick, tight hug, pecked her on the cheek, and hurried down the hall to his room.

"Night!" he called over his shoulder before rounding the corner.

"Night," Sakura responded weakly, uselessly waving her hand goodbye. She heaved a big sigh and rolled her shoulders before glancing around the hall once again.

"Now, how do I get to my room again?" she said to no one in particular. She started down the hallway in the direction Kankuro had gone, turning right where he had gone left, positive they didn't room in the same corridor, at least.

After several minutes of walking, Sakura stopped and stamped her foot in annoyance. She looked in the corner and spotted the same potted plant that she always seemed to pass and contemplated taking out her frustration on the poor foliage.

"What is it with that plant?" she seethed, fully prepared to toss it against the wall so she never had to look at it again.

"Problems?" said a voice behind her. She jumped about a foot in the air and whirled on the eavesdropper, ready to give him a piece of her mind. She slumped against the wall, hand on her heart, when she saw who it was.

"Gaara!" she breathed. "You scared the hell out of me!"

He chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Are you lost?"

She stood and smacked his arm playfully, but really she was grateful he had found her.

"I can never seem to find my room. All your hallways look the same. And I either keep running into the same plant over and over again or you have them placed at strategic intervals just to confuse poor outsiders like me."

"Your room is this way." Gaara led her down the hall, hiding the grin that refused to leave. He stopped several doors down and she grimaced.

"Really? It was right here the whole time?"

He shrugged, giving her a look that said "I had no trouble finding it."

"You sure you all don't just keep moving it to confuse me? I swear it wasn't here the last time."

He raised his eyebrows, trying to stop his lips from quirking into a smile and failing.

She pointed an accusatory finger at him and smiled in triumph. "That's it, isn't it! You have the same furniture and bedding in every room and you have the maids go around and gather everyone's luggage in the morning and move it all around just to confuse everyone. I knew it."

"To the best of my knowledge, no one else has had difficulty locating their rooms," he said tonelessly.

She blanched and then grimaced, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"You have to face facts," he told her in the same neutral voice. "You have no sense of direction."

She stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter. "You just made a joke!" she accused.

Gaara smirked, inwardly rejoicing that he had actually made her laugh while trying. Sakura's giggled died down and they stood awkwardly in the hall for a few moments, he unwilling to leave her alone and she not wanting to be rude and ditch him in the hall.

"Well," she finally said, hand inching for the doorknob.

"Well," he repeated, shuffling his feet.

They spoke at the same time.

"I'd better get to bed."

"I suppose I should let you get some sleep."

They stared at each other, Sakura giggling awkwardly before Gaara finally shook himself out of his stupor.

"Goodnight, Sakura," he said quietly, bowing gracefully before turning walking down the corridor, leaving her alone.

Sakura watched his retreating form before smiling giddily to herself and retiring for the evening, letting the door shut behind her with a click.