Author's Note: Guuuuuyyyyyssss. I finally updated again. :D Sorry it took so long. I know it's my vacation but I've been seriously uninspired for quite a while and writing always seemed to give me a headache. Gaara's POV is a pain in the ass. But! Here it is, at last. I hope you enjoy it and I know that after you read this chapter, you're going to be out for my blood. ;)

As usual, enjoy and review!

Destiny of the Cursed

Chapter 47: Fading Heartbeat

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

'Two weeks.'

The skies were unusually dark, thick clouds gathering silently up above, looking like dark, angry swirls of grey smoke. There was a flash of something bright, and then the roar of thunder was heard, reminding people of the heavy barrage of explosions. Just as the echoes faded away little by little, the thundering downpour and harsh splatters of raindrops took over the silence before it can even begin to make its presence known. And then there was nothing but endless noise in the background, restless and continuous, with the sinister howls of the wind and the occasional clap of merciless thunder.

Beep.

The heart machine's constant sound was the only thing that could be heard inside the dead silence of the tent, each beep echoing like a gunshot and feeling like a sharp blade as seemed to sink into his chest and made his heart bleed even more. It hurt; so, so bad that it sometimes rendered him unable to breathe and other times, made him unable to feel anything. The irony of it all was as bitter as it was sweet though, because despite the pain that came with it, the boy needed to hear the noise. It was his only source of relief, because each beep was his only reassurance of the girl's fading life and the only remaining source of his sanity. Anything else was simply white noise, insignificant and unwanted and fleeting, just like the pattern of his shallow breath or perhaps the muffled explosions that sounded like radio static from outside.

Beep.

'It's been two weeks.'

Despite the chaotic noise outside, the silence of the boy sitting by the corner remained palpable to anyone present in the room. His form was stiff, unmoving, the lower half of his face pressed against his interlocked fingers and his gaze fixed on the patient on the bed, unblinking, unfocused, clouded with pain. The exhaustion that his body exuded was almost physically tangible and too hard to bear looking at, with his eyes dull and bloodshot, his cheeks hollow and shoulders hunched over deeply as if it carried the weight of the world. He never spoke once he'd arrived and sat down, not a single sound escaping him as long as he was inside her room, unless he was being spoken to.

Beep.

'They said she's going to be fine.'

It became a routine, what he was doing. A deadly habit that slowly killed him, and a torturous and painful sight to anyone else's point of view. He'd go about on his mornings, doing his job as Kazekage without rest or break, mechanically signing paperwork and approving decisions. He'd join in on meetings, always arriving on time, always physically present but always mentally detached from the rest of the crowd. He'd open his mouth only when necessary, his voice always stoic, and his words always precise and cut short and ringing hollowly inside everyone's ears.

'They said she's going to wake up any moment now.'

Beep.

He'd brush off every inquiry, every concerned protest and basically ignored the worried stares that bore holes on his back and followed him until he disappeared once more inside the confines of her tent. He'd sit down on his corner, assume the same stance—back bowed, shoulders hunched, elbows digging on his knees and mouth pressed against intertwined fingers—and stare for as long as his abused eyes could take.

'She's going to wake up.'

Beep.

He'd fall asleep—no, he'd fall into unconsciousness, once the exhaustion has taken its toll on his body and then he'd wake up, wide-eyed with horror and mouth open with silent screams, breathless and pale from the nightmares that danced behind his eyes. And then he'd go on with his day, repeating the vicious cycle over and over again.

'She's going to be fine.'

Beep.

Several had tried to help. Several had tried to tug him away, tried to break his unhealthy sequence of waking up, exhausting himself beyond comprehension and then passing out. But each and every attempt was met by a pair of too-dull eyes that seemed to reflect a broken soul and a hoarse, pathetic reassurance of 'I'm fine'. Eventually, they stopped trying, and instead went out of their way to bring him food or remind him of a meeting or coax him to sleep on a proper bed. They all resigned to watching worriedly from a distance, never seeing the changes, never realizing what they all should be most worried about.

'She's going to be fine, isn't she?'

Beep.

No one ever seemed to see that each time Gaara visited, each time he sat down and stared, that he was becoming more and more invisible to the world. No one noticed that each time his footsteps were heavier than before, that his presence was barely acknowledged by anyone anymore. He was no longer the immovable Kazekage, no longer the fearsome redheaded shinobi that everyone knew by reputation, no longer the dangerous man whose life was one of the highest priced in the Bingo Book. He was no longer himself.

'…Isn't she?'

Hope was a heavy burden, and for the past two weeks, it had been the only thing that kept the redhead grounded. But carrying hope was like dragging along a rusted anchor that weighed you down and each time he clung to it for the sake of his remaining sanity, the rust entered his wounds and infected them, until every drag of that anchor stung and bit at his heart, until every time he hoped felt like he was being poisoned. In the end, it all came down to two choices: to continue dragging that anchor with him and suffer pain every time or to let hope fade away completely and finally feel lighter than ever, because the minute somebody allows hope to fly away is the minute they become an empty shell.

Despite the pain, the sting and the slow, tortuous burn of desperation and misery that seemed to well up like an infection deep inside him, Gaara chose the rusted anchor without hesitation, gripping it as tightly as he could.

Beep.

It was cold inside the room. Silent, except for the occasional brush of paper against paper and the scratch of a pen as ink poured out onto the parchment. The handwriting was flawless, all clean lines and precise curves on the white piece of document and as the grandfather clock struck for the last time, hitting 10 o'clock, the young man behind the desk stopped writing and dropped his pen.

Gaara looked up and out of the window. It was raining.

Flashback

There was a blinding flash that appeared from outside, followed by a deep rumble that bounced off the pastel blue walls. Aquamarine eyes looked glanced up sharply, a confused frown appearing on the boy's expression just as a heavy downpour began and raindrops splattered soundly against the previously clear windows. "It's…raining." The redhead uttered under his breath, bewildered and stunned at the same time as he stared at the rivulet-like paths that the falling raindrops formed on the glass surface.

"Oh, yeah. That happens sometimes."

Momentarily forgetting about the paperwork that laid on the table in front of him, he turned to look at the sprawled out girl on the couch by the side, confused at her nonchalance. "It does?" Gaara asked curiously, pursing his lips and looking out once more. "But it's—I don't understand. It's not supposed to rain."

"Mm?" There was a sound of pages scratching against each other, and then grey eyes flickered up, meeting Gaara's puzzled gaze. "Why not?"

"Because it's summer in Konoha right now…isn't it?"

Blinking twice at the blunt statement, Katana dropped the book in her hands and pushed herself up to her elbows to stare out the window, calmly taking in the sight of the heavy rain. Turning to Gaara, she sent him a quick smile, chuckling a little as she explained, "It's just a bit of a summer drizzle, Gaara. It's…weird, I guess, in a way." Her smile softened into something more intimate as she met his eyes and Katana added, "But it certainly is beautiful, isn't it?"

End Flashback

There was a crackle of lightning from behind the drenched window and immediately, the memory faded into nothingness and once more, Gaara found himself staring into empty air. "Just a bit of a drizzle…" The redhead muttered under his breath, aquamarine eyes lowering as he tried to recall the girl's features, her smile and the sound of her laughter—clear and genuine, beautiful—and the way her grey eyes crinkled at the corners.

How long had it been, since he last saw her smile? Since he last heard her say his name?

'Four months.' His mind answered, much to his burden, and added unhelpfully, 'and a week and three days and exactly ten hours and five minutes.' Despairingly, Gaara shut his eyes close and concentrated, trying to remember everything, trying to see every detail, every smile and frown, trying to hear once more every word that Katana said to him.

"Gaara." He missed the way she spoke his name, each time accompanied by a different tone.

"Gaara, come on. We'll miss our reservation." He missed the suppressed amusement, the gentle reminders whenever he forgot to sleep or eat and the hard, stubborn edge whenever she was angry. He missed the way she looked at him, softly and with tenderness he doubted he deserved, as if he was the most important person she had in her life.

"Kazekage-sama." He missed the way she teased him, with a sharp grin and bright eyes as she subtly pushed his buttons and found new ways to make him tic. "Suck it up and work, Kazekage-sama."

He missed her presence, strong and warm and constant, a rock he could rely on to always support him. "I'll be right here by your side…"

"Kazekage-sama."

The voice broke through the tranquility inside his mind and with a startled blink of his tired, sunken eyes, Gaara raised his head, meeting the look of concern sent his way. The image of the brunette inside his head vanished like smoke, her voice turning into nothing but ringing echoes in his ears.

"…Tsubaki-san." He acknowledged after a defeated moment as he finally focused on the person standing by the doorway. The girl was a kunoichi of the Mist, no older than he was, if not younger by a few months or so. She had taken an interest on helping him during the first weeks of sorting everything out after the war and soon, the Mizukage herself delegated her into being his personal assistant of sorts, since all Gaara's men had been assigned to other duties. "Is something the matter?"

"No—nothing like that, Kazekage-sama." Tsubaki quickly reassured, waving a hand in dismissal. "I was just dropping by to see how you were doing. It's past ten already. I thought you'd be gone, since you always retire at nine." She looked at him in question once more, the concerned furrow of her eyebrows unrelenting. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Everything is fine." Clearing his throat, Gaara turned to glance at the grandfather clock that stood with its back against the wall, the minute finger ticking away into oblivion. "I was finishing the last of the paperwork and decided another hour wouldn't hurt. I'm about to go now, however." The girl nodded as he stood and seemed to patiently wait for something as he cleared away his desk and gather his Kage coat in one arm. "What is it?" He asked, stopping in the middle of the room and staring expectantly when she looked up.

"Oh." Tsubaki fumbled with her hands behind her back. Flustered, she met Gaara's awaiting gaze, cheeks flushing with color as she handed out a box to him. It was a simple square parcel, wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with a clean string. "Here", she said hoarsely, blinking in rapid succession, "it's just a little something. I honestly didn't know what to get you, since—" She stopped her rambling and took a deep breath, settling instead for a small smile. "Well, here it is anyway. Happy Birthday, Kazekage-sama."

Staring at the wrapped box and letting the meaning of the words wash over him, Gaara swallowed tightly, just then realizing the date. "My…birthday." He repeated, not quite wrapping his mind around the idea yet. Tentatively, he reached out for the box, testing its solid weight once it was in his grip. It wasn't overly heavy but the package inside was compact and hard.

"Open it." The girl urged and seeing the eagerness in the latter's face, Gaara did as he was told, tearing the wrapping paper away as clean as possible and opening the box that lay underneath. Inside were five different ninjutsu scrolls, shiny and brand new-looking. "Thank you." The redhead said with a grateful nod as he closed the box once more and laid it down on his desk, looking up to add in question, "How did you know it was my birthday?"

The Mist nin shrugged one shoulder, looking pleased at the fact that Gaara appreciated the present. "I overheard." She said nonchalantly, giving him another smile before turning on her heel and waving a hand goodbye as she walked out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kazekage-sama." Aquamarine eyes watched the girl's retreating back with a mixture of confusion and gratitude, his gaze softening as he stared at the way her braided hair—chestnut brown, but still a shade too light to resemble the long locks he loved running his fingers through—swayed with her steps. Casting his gaze away, guilt rose into his system almost instantly and the redhead bit back a self-deprecating sigh.

'Must be the exhaustion.' He thought weakly, preferring to believe the excuse over anything else. Swallowing back another heavy breath, Gaara ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to comb them into submission as he walked out of his makeshift office.

The cold breeze was what welcomed him first as he stepped a foot outside and with a lungful of crisp air, tension seeped out of the redhead's system little by little. The night was quiet, the ground still damp from the rain earlier, and somehow, Gaara found it easier to walk in the silence. 'She always had a preference for taking a stroll outside during cold nights.' The lot near the office was almost empty as he strode on, with the exception of the occasional jounin in charge of making rounds bowing down to him in greeting.

It had been four months.

Four months since the war had ended and yet there was still so much to do, so many rough disagreements to work out between each party, so many condolence letters to write and sign and give out to the families of those who died in battle, before any of them could go back to their villages and dismiss the whole ordeal as just another unfortunate, albeit historical, event. 'Four months since Katana was last conscious.' Went Gaara's train of thought, despite his displeasure at being reminded. His footsteps fell much too heavily, echoing unusually loud against the dirt but he was simply too tired to even care.

The daimyos were difficult to please, Gaara realized soon enough. They were paranoid and constantly displeased by everything, fussing over the smallest of details. Dealing with them always felt like bargaining with scared, unreasonable children. As the Kage who perhaps took most of the brunt of injuries, the other four leaders had unanimously decided to delegate him to the handling diplomatic side of the post-war concerns. It was cleaner and there was a significantly less amount of blood compared to the other divisions like the medical and the clean-ups but it was no less chaotic. The elders of Suna weren't much help to his situation either, dropping not-so subtle hints about his alliances with the other village and pestering him to take the Wind daimyo's offer of his daughter's hand in marriage. He'd learned to ignore them since the beginning but truthfully speaking, the redhead wondered how much more he could tolerate before he would inevitably snap.

"Hey, Gaara!"

Halting in his steps, the redhead craned his head, blinking at the blonde that jogged towards him. "Naruto", he greeted back, instantly bracing himself as the other boy carelessly swung an arm around his shoulders, the weight threatening to topple the two of them over if not for Gaara's sturdy legs planted on the ground. "What brings you here?" There was a wide grin plastered on his face, mirth spreading throughout his face and lighting up his cerulean eyes. Naruto shrugged jerkily, chuckling when Gaara frowned at his confusing answer. "I dunno", Naruto finally said, looking at Gaara with a knowing smile, "you tell me why I'm here."

"I…" Blinking tiredly, Gaara settled for frowning deeper, "I don't understand."

"No, of course you don't." Naruto breathed out in defeat as his face fell, the grin slipping off his face. Taking a deep breath and letting it out as a huff, the blonde crossed his arms and frowned determinedly at Gaara. "Come on." He said, reaching to grab one of the redhead's arms and ignoring the grunt of protest that escaped Gaara. "Trust you to forget your own special day." Naruto muttered under his breath, shaking his head disapprovingly as he dragged Gaara from behind him, setting long strides of his feet that the latter stumbled to match.

"Naruto", Gaara bit out, his faint eyebrows furrowing in a mixture bewilderment and annoyance, "where are you taking me?" He tried to pull his arm back several times but the exhaustion clinging to him made his limbs feel heavier than usual and the attempts were rendered useless as Naruto tightened his hold on him.

"Relax, will you?" Naruto told him as he craned back to glance at Gaara, rolling his eyes at the redhead's tight grimace. "It's not like I'm kidnapping you or anything. Believe me", Naruto added with a teasing snort, tugging on Gaara's arm just to irritate the Kazekage further, "if I wanted to kidnap you, you'd know."

"As if I'd let you take me without a fight." Gaara scoffed, his irritation fading away bit by bit as Naruto flashed him a bright smile once more.

Closing his eyes as he was dragged against his will, Gaara let loose a sigh of defeat, reluctantly catching up until he was finally walking by the blonde's side instead of being hauled along. "You can let go of me now." He informed his friend, subtly shaking his head at the victorious fist pump that Naruto did. "At least tell me where you're taking me." Gaara said, glaring sideways when Naruto stubbornly averted his eyes from him.

"Nope." The blonde hero said, popping the 'p' of the word, "It's a surprise."

As soon as they arrived at the surprise location, Gaara tensed and dug his feet deep into the ground, staring warily at the entrance of the building and scowling at Naruto when he looked back. "Gaara, come on." Naruto all but whined, groaning in frustration and clawing at his hair at the redhead's disbelieving snort. "Come on, it'll be fun."

"I don't think so." Gaara argued readily and made a face at the noises that echoed from the club. Even from the outside, Gaara's sharp sense of smell could catch the reek of cheap booze and sweat, no doubt coming from the people dancing along to the booming music. "I'm not going inside." He told the blonde, throwing another sharp glare to push his point across.

The hour was far too late for anyone to be up and about, much less to spend it at a makeshift club. Weariness was all but oozing out of his system and along with his desperate need for sleep—he hadn't slept well for the past four months, one week and three days, not that anyone else aside from him knew—Gaara's patience was quickly wearing thin. Clenching his jaw tight, he crossed his arms, maintaining the glower he had as the blonde struggled with coming up with reasons.

"But Gaara—!"

"No."

"Gaara, it's your birthday!"

"It doesn't matter." The redhead dismissed without hesitation, grimacing as he said in afterthought, "Lower your voice down. It would be terribly inconvenient if someone else would know about it." Naruto blew out a sigh as he raked his fingers through his yellow locks. Chewing on his lip, the boy furrowed his eyebrows and finally admitted, "There's a surprise party waiting for you inside. Everyone's there."

"What?" Gaara demanded, taken aback for a split second. He watched as Naruto gave a sheepish grin in return, placing his hands in front of Gaara in a placating manner. "What do you mean, everyone?" Taking a sharp intake of breath and releasing it along with his pent-up frustration, Gaara pressed his eyes shut and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. There was a dull throb manifesting at the back of his head, slowly but surely developing into what he could only pass off as a killer migraine. At the sound of weak protests, Gaara raised a hand and kept his temper in check before giving his friend a half-lidded glare.

"Naruto", he began, voice dull and low and strained with exasperation, "I didn't want a party. I'm exhausted and I need sleep because I have work tomorrow. Why would anyone think—whose plan was it to throw me a surprise party?"

Crestfallen, Naruto looked down, scowling defiantly. "Mine." He muttered, reluctantly glancing up and blinking in surprise when he was met by a pair of wide aquamarine eyes and an expression of disbelief. Confused, Naruto stared at the redhead, waiting for the imminent violent reaction. After a moment passed with Gaara still gaping at him, Naruto finally cleared his throat, waving a hand in front of the Kazekage's face to break the awkwardness. "Oi! You still with me or what?"

"Yes." Gaara answered hoarsely, blinking twice as if snapping out of a daze. He stared at the blonde and at once, his face crumpled, guilt flashing through his eyes. "It was…yours." The redhead repeated numbly, his shoulders sagging lower in shame at Naruto's careful nod. "Naruto—"

"No, don't start—"

"—why?"

At the whispered question, Naruto gawked at him in stupor, mouth open and blonde eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like offense. "Why?" Naruto growled out after a split second, glaring accusingly at Gaara and balling his fists by his sides. "Because you're depressed and I'm your friend, you asshole!" He snarled angrily, throwing his arms up in frustration when the latter gave no other response aside from a questioning grunt. "You think I don't see that? You think none of us could see that? Gaara, we're your friends! We're not stupid. And we do so care, fucker!" The blonde raged out, huffing moodily and crossing his arms as he kept his glare pinned on Gaara.

Tense silence dawned between them and as the anger slowly drained out of Naruto, the blonde let loose a fed up sigh. "It's your birthday." Naruto started, leveling Gaara with a stern look. "You're supposed to at least be a little happy—"

"You know why that's not possible—"

"Oh, I know exactly why." Naruto retorted, his gaze unwavering even when Gaara matched his stare with a hard glower of his own. "And your reasoning is stupid. Just stop it, Gaara. You're torturing yourself over all of this—"

"Why do you care? I deserve it." Gaara snapped.

"No, you don't." Naruto ground out.

"It was my fault, Naruto."

"Was it now?"

"Yes."

"I bet Katana-chan didn't think so."

Freezing in his spot as the girl's name was mentioned, Gaara sucked in a ragged breath and balled his fists by his side, fighting the urge to teleport using his sand and vanish with the cold breeze, to do anything just so he could escape the conversation he was stuck in. Giving his friend a weak glare, Gaara raised his head, cursing the crack in his voice as he said, "Does she? She's not even conscious enough to tell me that herself." Casting his misty gaze out into the dark sky, a bitter scoff left the redhead, the muscles in his jaw flexing into order to push back the stinging of his weary eyes.

"It was my fault. If I had been more careful…" He rasped out, defeated and utterly spent. Shaking his head, Gaara inhaled deeply, his lungs burning with the painfully cold air, "Nobody could convince me otherwise."

"She could." Naruto mumbled out of the blue, startling Gaara into glancing back at him. Cerulean eyes blinked once, a knowing look placed on Naruto's unusually serene expression. "Once she wakes up, that is."

Gaara swallowed the painful lump growing in his throat as he looked at the boy, his lips trembling slightly as he asked, "You still think she's going to wake up?"

"Yeah." Naruto replied, leaving no room for doubt in his tone. "This isn't the first time this happened to her, y'know? But Katana-chan always wakes up, no matter what." Quirking a small smile as he watched Gaara relax little by little, slowly letting go of his resistance, Naruto jerked his head towards the entrance of the club, his grin widening as he added, "When Katana-chan wakes up, I'm telling on you. She's gonna punch you so hard in the face for even doubting her. A black eye would look good on you."

The club was as chaotic as Gaara had imagined it to be on the inside, crowded and stuffy, the mixture of alcohol and vaporized perfume lingering in the air. Naruto had pulled him into the mass of dancing people, expertly weaving his way through and gently shoving aside those that were a little too drunk and came too close for Gaara's comfort.

"Over there!" Naruto leaned in to shout into his ear, his usually loud voice drowned out by the booming music that sent vibrations deep within their bones. The blonde pointed a finger towards a long table situated at a darkened corner and sure enough, the Konoha Eleven—twelve, Gaara corrected mentally as he saw Uchiha Sasuke—and his brother and sister were all sitting together.

"There he is, the birthday boy!" Somebody from their table yelled in greeting and everyone craned their heads back, grinning and giving out their own acknowledgements at the pair. The redhead ducked his head in embarrassment, not used to the amount of warm attention he received from the group. Murmuring his gratitude and smiling hesitantly as several patted him on the back, Gaara sat himself down on the empty seat between his siblings, sighing in relief at Temari's one-armed hug.

"Sorry", his brother murmured next to him, bumping his shoulder gently against Gaara's, "we couldn't stop him, jan. Both Tem and I told them it was a bad idea. They wouldn't listen either way."

"The lazy-ass and his team practically dragged me inside." Temari grumbled in complaint from his other side.

"It's fine." Gaara sighed under his breath, politely returning the nod of acknowledgement he got from Hyuuga Neji and nodding once more at the bun-haired girl named Tenten when raised her sake cup in his direction with a grin. From across the table, two seats to the right, Naruto was busy being harassed by his own teammates, Haruno Sakura good-naturedly slugging him on the arm, the Uchiha snorting softly by the girl's side.

"Thank you for being here anyway." Gaara told his siblings.

His answer pulled a snort of amusement from Kankuro and curiously, Gaara gave him a lingering sideways glance, raising a faint eyebrow in question. "What?"

"Like there's any way we're lettin' you go all by yourself." His brother scoffed, earning a smile and an agreeing hum from Temari. "You can't possibly survive."

"You'll combust." Temari added, her turquoise gaze twinkling with mischief. "We don't want Naruto bringing us back drunken pieces of you."

"Your trust in me is overwhelming." Gaara told them sarcastically with a straight face, basking in the muffled laughter of his siblings and blinking innocently when Nara Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at the three of them. The night went on easier than Gaara had expected it to be. The people in the table took turns greeting Gaara and chatter kept the group alive, shifting from one topic to another, never reaching a particularly serious or grave subject.

They seemed to have an endless supply of sake as well—where they got it from, Gaara didn't know—and as the time flew by, almost everyone in the table was either tipsy or pleasantly buzzed. At one point, the group played a silly little game called 'Spin the Bottle' and when the bottle's snout finally landed on the redhead himself, with Yamanaka Ino on the other end, the girl had dared him to take a shot. Glancing at his siblings as a silent plea for help had been futile, since Temari had simply shaken her head, refusing to intervene and looking far too amused by the turn of events; Kankuro had matched his begging glare with a faint smirk, swallowing a mouthful of his own drink before telling Gaara to "Just do it, jan."

"I don't drink." Gaara had tried to say right after he gave both his brother and sister a betrayed grimace. He stared warily at the small, clear glass they pushed in front of him, but whatever excuse he presented was met by a chorus of disagreements and more good-natured goading.

"Aw, come on, Gaara!"

"Kazekage-sama's not afraid of a little alcohol now, is he?"

"It really isn't that bad!"

"A-Anou, l-let's not force K-Kazekage-sama anything—"

"Nah, Hinata-chan! It's just a little bit of fun!"

"Hn."

Glowering half-heartedly at the Uchiha's taunt, Gaara averted his gaze and helplessly looked up at the ceiling, sighing quietly through his nose. "I'll regret this." He muttered in a whisper and gave everyone a sharp glare, scaring them into silence as he reached for the shot glass and threw it back. The sound of their group erupting into laughter and cheering rang inside his ears as the alcohol burned an acidic path down his throat, a bitter aftertaste left in the back of his tongue and a buzzing sensation developing inside his head.

"Cheers." He announced hoarsely, his coughing earning him more grins and chuckles.

As midnight pulled itself over their heads, the swarm of shinobi inside the club had slowly trickled away until their group was the only one left. Both Ino and Sakura had stood up without warning and made their way towards the back of the bar, bringing back with them a small, round cake with a single candle lit aflame. The lyrics of 'Happy Birthday' floated in the air around them as the group huddled closer and sang in soft, low tones, several pairs of eyes pinned on the stunned redhead in the middle. "Make a wish, Gaara." Naruto told him as the song ended and Gaara raised his head, glancing shortly at his friend before his aquamarine eyes fixed themselves on the burning candle.

Swallowing hard, the young man inhaled raggedly, a soft emotion flashing through his gaze. "I wish…" he hesitated, mesmerized by the way the tiny flame wavered once and then elongated upwards, the light brightening like a flicker of hope gathering strength. "I wish she'd wake up soon." He breathed out and as soon as the words left his mouth, a hushed silence dawned onto their table, making the redhead look up. As he did, Gaara stopped and blinked in surprise, the sight of the people around him sharing tender looks and sympathetic gazes at each other taking him aback. With the way they stared at the lone candle, it was almost as if they were wishing for the same thing.

From across the table, Naruto raised his glass, a watery smile plastered on his whiskered face. "To Katana." He said and Gaara's breath hitched in his throat as the people around the table followed the blonde, raising their glasses in suit. "To Katana." Gaara repeated gratefully, blowing out the flame as the Konoha Twelve and his siblings threw back their glasses.

The walk back to the medical camp was quieter than usual, the silent scrape of the redhead's footsteps against the dirt ground and his shallow breathing the only noises heard. His thoughts were a constant buzz inside his head, the wish repeating in his ears like an endless mantra. 'I wish she'd wake up soon…' Shaking his head, Gaara pushed the thought to the back of his mind and found himself standing in front of Katana's tent. He took a minute to compose himself, letting the familiar feeling of grief wash over him before reaching out to push the flaps to the side and enter.

The sight that welcomed him made him halt in his tracks. Gaara blinked and frowned, uncertain on how to react to the man that sat on the edge of Katana's bed, one of his gloved hands combing through the girl's hair while the other held up an orange book that covered the rest of his face. Clearing his throat quietly, Gaara steeled himself as he earned the attention of the older man.

"Hatake-san." He said, nodding tentatively when the silver-haired jounin looked up at him.

"Ah, Kazekage-sama." The man returned with a wave and a polite smile under his mask, his visible eye crinkling at the side. Kakashi shut his book with an audible snap before pocketing it away from sight. "Sorry to barge in without warning. I haven't been around much lately, what with the clean-up, and I thought I'd pay my daughter a visit. I'm not being a bother, am I?"

"No." Gaara answered hastily, confused at the sudden nervousness that coursed through him. He'd never been nervous around Hatake Kakashi before, not even during the war and he had no reason to; the man had been nothing but kind to him, guiding him with being the Commander General as subtly as the jounin could.

"No, of course not. It's fine." He reassured, shifting in his place as he added, "And please, call me Gaara."

"Alright then, Gaara-kun."

Wordlessly, Gaara made his way further into the room and sat himself down in his usual corner, watching with curious eyes as the infamously strong jounin shamelessly fussed over the unconscious girl, smoothing out Katana's forehead and tucking the sheets around her form. Seeing the man around the girl was like seeing a different Hatake Kakashi in action. If Gaara hadn't seen him fight in the battlefield firsthand, the redhead would have never believed that the man sitting beside Katana was the very same shinobi who wreaked havoc and towed down enemy lines like an unstoppable, deadly hurricane.

Silence hung in the atmosphere as the lad scrutinized the way Kakashi gently brushed away the creases in Katana's hospital gown, humming a soft tune under his breath and gazing down at the brunette with a tender look in his eye. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity spent in quiet, the jounin glanced up at Gaara in question. "I heard you stayed here since the war had ended, taking care of her." Straightening up, Kakashi offered the younger man a grateful smile, "Thank you for that."

It wasn't until he uttered those words that Gaara finally understood the emotion that churned in the pit of his stomach and squeezed at his heart. It wasn't nervousness at all; it was guilt. Finding it impossible to meet the man's eyes as soon as the realization came to him, Gaara averted his gaze to the ground and felt shame bubbling deep inside him. "It's nothing to thank me for." He said, his hands reflexively clenching around the fabric of his pants. He took in a sharp breath and gathered his remaining courage to look up at the man as he admitted hoarsely, "It was my fault she's in that condition in the first place. Watching over her was the least I could do."

"Your fault?" Kakashi frowned in confusion as he regarded the young leader. Leaning forward to sit with his elbows propped up against his knees and his back hunched over, Kakashi raised an inquiring eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'your fault'?"

Despite how agonizing it was to relive the events that led up to Katana's coma, Gaara willed himself to open his mouth and explain, "It happened when we were fighting against Madara. We sent everyone away and I spoke to her personally to make sure she wouldn't be in the battlefield during the fight. She—Katana came out of nowhere." The redhead said, voice dropping low and his features tightening in a grimace. He took in a calming breath, dragging it out as a heavy sigh. "I told her to stay away, but…she came to help me all of a sudden and the tide of the battle turned against us before we could get away. In the end, I wasn't strong enough to keep her safe."

Risking a glance at the older man, Gaara's eyes turned apologetic and he gave Kakashi a pained frown. "I'm sorry." He said as sincerely as he could, bravely meeting the jounin's unwavering stare and watching as understanding slowly dawned to the older shinobi and pain clouded Kakashi's visible eye. "If I had known…If I'd been more careful, then maybe she wouldn't be in this situation. I'm sorry I couldn't protect her."

Clenching his fists, Gaara pressed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply, waiting for the inevitable response of anger. After all, when he'd relayed to the Raikage what had exactly happened to his daughter, the man's first reaction had been to blindly take a swing at him and bellow out profanities, almost beheading him if not for the fact that the other Kages had been present as well and had intervened just in time before A Yotsuki could kill the redhead.

The Raikage had long since forgiven him, of course, and even apologized for his previous overreaction, but the look of utter betrayal and disappointment that he sent Gaara at that particular moment would be forever carved into the boy's mind. With what had happened, Gaara knew Kakashi's reaction shouldn't be far behind. "It's not an excuse, but please know that I didn't mean for any of this to happen and if I could…I'd gladly take her place just so she wouldn't be suffering like this."

Instead of a death blow to the heart that Gaara expected would be delivered, the only thing he heard was the slight noise of Kakashi shifting in his seat and the jounin's long-suffering sigh that followed it closely. "So that's what happened, huh?" He heard the silver-haired man mutter and the lack of anger coloring the jounin's tone genuinely confused the redhead. Opening his eyes, Gaara frowned at the sight of Kakashi shaking his head dejectedly, looking down on his adoptive daughter with fond exasperation.

"I should've known…" Kakashi said again, this time brushing his fingers against a pale cheek.

Blinking twice and letting what happened—or the lack thereof—sink into his brain, Gaara concluded uncertainly, "You're not mad at me."

His statement made Kakashi glance up at him in surprise and the man furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment. "No, not at all." Kakashi told him, igniting a wave of cool relief to wash over Gaara's tense system, "Should I be?"

"I…I don't know." The redhead admitted helplessly, feeling guilt gnaw painfully at his heart. "I think so."

"Why is that?"

"Because it was my carelessness that led to her being hurt like this." The redhead answered without missing a beat, the bitterness and self-blame clear as glass in his tone. To his utter surprise, instead of agreeing with him, Kakashi's gaze softened impossibly and the older man sighed, giving him a look that shared the same grief and guilt and had felt the same helplessness he was feeling since Katana's comatose.

"Gaara", Kakashi began soothingly, moving forward and hunching over in his seat once more, "it's not your fault. None of this is, and blaming you otherwise for my own convenience would be something Katana would never forgive me for doing."

"But, I—"

"Look, kiddo..."

Stopping his sentence at Kakashi's term of endearment, Gaara sucked in a broken breath as he realized that he had never been called 'kiddo' before, nor had he been ever treated like one. For most of his life, he had been considered 'that thing' or ' that monster' because he'd been too dangerous to be considered a kid; being termed 'kiddo' felt similarly like being drenched in ice water. With his mouth pressed into a firm line, Gaara stared at Kakashi despondently, waiting for the man to express himself.

"I understand what you're going through. Truly, I do." Kakashi said and not once did his stare waver. "I can't count how many times I've witnessed Katana lying unconscious on a hospital bed. And I can honestly tell you that despite what I believe in, I know it's not because of lack of trying to keep her safe from my part." Taking in a deep breath and making sure that the lad was hanging onto every word he said, Kakashi glanced down at the brunette and reached out to grasp a limp hand by Katana's side.

"You know", he began, stroking a thumb against the girl's hand as he contemplated, "there was one time, when Katana was eight years old, that she almost died under my watch." Kakashi's lone eye flickered up to calmly take in the look of alarm in the redhead's face.

"What happened?" Gaara asked cautiously, faint eyebrows furrowing in the slightest sign of interest.

"I've had her for almost three years then." Kakashi said softly, reminiscing the memory as he brushed his fingers fleetingly against Katana's healing bruises. "I was still in ANBU, and it didn't occur to me to resign until that certain moment. I've been assigned to lead a team in an S-rank mission to retrieve information valuable to Konoha. The mission was estimated to last for a week and it was the first time I had to hire someone to watch over her." Kakashi blew out a sudden breath and ruffled his already tousled silver hair.

"The mission failed terribly. We had a newbie in our team and the minute we were compromised, he'd panicked and was the first one to be killed in action. As the captain, I tried to save as many comrades as I could but in the end, only four of us were left, two severely wounded, and the enemy was hot in pursuit on our trails. It happened when we finally crossed the borders of Konoha and I was wounded and chakra-exhausted and I intentionally left myself behind in order for the rest of my team to run back and ask for back-up. I was cornered by five of them, all of jounin-level, and all of a sudden—"

"She arrived to help you." Gaara continued, a mixture of awe and horror written across his expression. The redhead swallowed thickly, shaking his head at the impossibility of it all. "She was…Katana was eight then."

"Yep." Kakashi confirmed with a sad chuckle and a nod, his eye blinking slowly as he stared at Katana, "She was eight and not even genin yet, but she took down two men on her own before everything went awry. I saved her just in time and ran as fast as my legs could take me, letting the back-up take care of the rest. The medics diagnosed her with severe internal bleeding, chakra exhaustion and several broken ribs. She was unconscious in the hospital for at least two weeks and in those two weeks", Kakashi breathed out, heavy and full of sudden grief, "I dropped my position in ANBU and never once left her side. In those two weeks, I've never hated myself more in my life."

Silence stretched out for a moment and as Kakashi took another lungful of air and released it as a sigh, he looked up at Gaara, waiting until the younger shinobi finally met his stare before continuing. "The minute Katana woke up, I almost sobbed like a child." Kakashi admitted softly, glancing down at the said girl and smiling at her despite her lack of response. "I hugged her and never wanted to let go. I felt so angry and so relieved at the same time and I remember scolding the life out of her as soon as I got my breath back."

Without warning, Kakashi's smile widened and he chuckled lowly under his breath. "You know what she told me?"

"What?" Gaara asked instantly, taken aback by the vulnerability that danced in the masked man's expression and yet amazed at the fact that Kakashi couldn't seem to care less.

"She called me an idiot, punched me in the arm." Kakashi said with a flash of nostalgia in his eyes, "And told me that she didn't care how much I scolded, the next time that I'd be in danger, she'd still jump in and save me." Smiling sadly at the redhead, Kakashi straightened up and made a move to stand. "You see, Katana has herself surrounded by dangerous men: Naruto, Sasuke, the Raikage-sama, you and me…and the scary thing is, we're not the only ones. But she doesn't care at all and it doesn't matter how much we want to keep her safe. To her, it'll always be us who needs protecting, instead of the other way around. And somehow, she's right." As soon as he was out of his seat, Kakashi bent down and murmured something incoherent near Katana's ear, brushing a tender kiss against her forehead before standing back up.

"You didn't hurt her, Gaara. Uchiha Madara did." Kakashi told him as a matter-of-factly, striding towards the entrance of the tent. "The decision to jump in and sacrifice herself in order to save you was hers alone. Blaming yourself for where she is right now would be disrespecting that decision. Okay?" He quirked a small smile at the redhead and raised an eyebrow questioningly, humming in satisfaction once Gaara gave a resigned nod.

"Oh!" The jounin recalled just as he was halfway out of the tent, halting in his tracks and suddenly turning on his heel once more to face Gaara. The redhead waited patiently as the older man dug around his pockets and took out his wallet, pulling out a folded piece of paper from inside the leather folds. "I almost forgot." Kakashi muttered, handing out the paper to Gaara with a polite smile. "Happy Birthday, Gaara-sama."

Gaara looked down at the offered thing, a small, folded piece of paper that was no larger than his palm. Tentatively, the redhead reached out to accept it. "Thank you." He said and was surprised by a warm hand that suddenly descended on the top of his head, the Kazekage glancing up to find Kakashi giving him a nod of fatherly acceptance.

"Take it easy, Gaara-kun." The man told him and finally exited the tent, leaving Gaara standing alone in the room with a folded piece of paper still in his grip. Curiously peering down at the thing in his hand, Gaara frowned and slowly opened it, his aquamarine eyes widening in a fraction of a second before it softened into something vulnerable.

'Katana.' Gaara breathed out wordlessly as he stared at the picture of the girl, his gaze sweeping across her bright, grey eyes and wide grin, her brown locks in a state of total disarray as she held a popsicle in one hand. The girl was leaning back against the tree trunk behind her and all around her was deep green grass, and the occasional yellow dandelion. She couldn't have been older than nine in the photo and something inside Gaara clenched painfully at the sight of the familiar smile. 'I wish you'd wake up soon…'

For the first time since the end of the war, Gaara fell asleep without trouble, the picture a warm presence inside the pocket that was placed directly above his heart.

There was blood on his face, thick and warm and overwhelmingly dark, the scent so strong that it made him gag. The pain in his body was too much to bear, radiating deep in his bones and rendering him unable to move. The dust was everywhere; beneath his unresponsive hands, sticking to his sweat-soaked face and making his lungs itch with every inhale. Something hard was digging against his back, insistent and irritating, and with growing consciousness, Gaara willed himself to gasp.

'Where am I?' was the first thing he asked himself, his jaw clenching as he heaved another effortful breath. The stale air that entered his lungs was cold and just as merciless as his surroundings. He pressed his eyes closed, stubbornly blinking away the stinging sensation. With his teeth gritted together and his eyes shut, he distractedly took note of the stiffness of his limbs, the soreness on his body indicating several bruises all over. The boy sucked in a stuttering inhale once more, grunting when his chest struggled against a heavy burden that was no doubt pressing down on him.

Prying his eyes open, Gaara stifled a groan and strained his head down, blinking his eyes into focus at the dead weight on his chest. 'What is…that?' Gaara grimaced in confusion, wondering what previous events could have led to his situation. There was nothing in his mind that seemed to help; it was as if all memories of a battle or a struggle had been erased from his head.

Despite the lack of knowledge, there was an insistent feeling of anxiety that gnawed on his chest, a sense of wrong that bothered him. But unable to think further, the redhead waited with ragged exhales for the blurriness to go away, staring feebly at the lump of brown until it finally shaped itself into something recognizable.

He froze the minute he realized that there was a pale face resting on his chest, cheeks drained of color, blue lips painted dark with crimson blood. But what made his heart stop wasn't the blood, or the pallor, or the bruises that bloomed deep purple against the chalky white complexion. It was the pair of familiar grey eyes that stared at him, glassy and clouded and unblinking, no longer familiar at all.

Dead.

The word shot through his heart like a bullet and he choked on a silent scream, aquamarine eyes widening despite the fact that he wanted no more than to shut his eyes and drown in the darkness and oblivion. His lungs were burning, his chest contracting painfully at the burst of emotions and the thoughts inside his head raged deafeningly like a thousand prisoners desperate to get out and run wild.

'No. No, no, no. This isn't how it's supposed to happen.' He heard himself say in the midst of the screaming inside his head as the sudden flash of memories assaulted him. 'This isn't how it is. She's not supposed to die.' His mouth opened on its own accord and his stuttering exhale became a full-blown gasp, his trembling voice bellowing out one name as he fought against the invisible bonds that restrained his limbs, "KATANA—!"

"…out of it, Sabaku!"

The voice—a sharp, alarmed call—shattered the nightmare that was unfolding from in front of his very eyes and with a choked scream, Gaara bolted upright and thrashed against the invisible bonds enveloping him, his wide eyes blinking rapidly, desperately willing away the horror that still clung on his mind and threatened to squeeze his heart until it broke into pieces.

"Katana." He gasped out breathlessly, his heart hammering against his chest as a mantra of 'She's not supposed to die, she's not supposed to die' repeated inside his head. Ignoring the way his shaky knees buckled under his weight when he stood, Gaara stumbled towards the bed, his clammy hand latching on to a wrist as he kept his eyes pinned on Katana's pale face.

There was a spilt second wherein he felt nothing—and his heart seemed to plummet down and out of his chest—but then there it was, the calm and rhythmic throb of a pulse. The dull drone of 'beep, beep, beep' from the heart machine registered inside the hollow of his ears and like a switch that was flicked to 'Off', the redhead's shoulders sagged down as panic drained out of his system and he closed his eyes tiredly. 'She's okay.' He thought as he righted his fast-paced breath using the beat of the girl's pulse, trying to get rid of the last bits of hysteria clinging to his mind.

'She's okay. Katana's alive.'

He allowed his mind to absorb the thought, drowning himself in the soft beat of Katana's pulse under his fingers and the 'beep, beep, beep' that echoed in the background. Slowly, the redhead got his breathing correct and his mind sorted out, and with a puzzled frown forming on his face, Gaara suddenly remembered the voice that woke him up. The lad raised his head and pivoted around, his muscles freezing as the strangest sight met his sleep-blurred eyes.

"What are you doing here, Uchiha?"

The dark-haired boy's wary glare on Gaara dissolved the second Gaara scowled firmly at him, cautiously narrowing his eyes at the newcomer. Sasuke let out a snort of disdain, crossing his arms and his legs as he leaned back against his chair. "Nice to see you too, Kazekage." Rolling his eyes at the dry glare that the redhead sent in his direction, Sasuke met the irritated aquamarine gaze with a bored look of his own. "If I'd known that you would be so ungrateful, maybe I shouldn't wake you up next time."

"You didn't answer my question." Gaara grimaced deeper at the cocky, holier-than-thou scoff that the Uchiha gave him as a response. He'd just woken up and already the start of his day was proving to be a challenging one. Letting out an inaudible sigh, Gaara stood up and reluctantly released his hold on Katana's wrist, dragging his feet toward the table.

He poured water into an empty bowl and washed his face and hands, all the while ignoring the onyx stare he knew was boring a hole in his back. He didn't understand what it was exactly that irritated him but for some unknown reason, the Uchiha made his temper rise in ways that nobody ever did by just existing in the same room.

"Don't make me ask again, Uchiha." He said as he toweled his face dry, a silent threat lingering unspoken at the end of his sentence. "And stop staring at me. It's disturbing."

Sasuke scoffed again. "Don't flatter yourself, Sabaku."

"Then stop doing it." Gaara said, this time pinning his glower on the boy. The Sharingan wielder returned the glare stubbornly but looked away with a grunt after a moment passed by. Sasuke waited until the redhead sat himself again and looked expectantly at him before he spoke in a dull tone. "The dobe asked me to give you this." The Uchiha picked up a brown paper bag from beside his chair and raised it into sight, dropping his arm back down after a minute. "Also, he wanted to make sure you ate properly this time, so I'm here to babysit you while you have your breakfast." He tossed the bag just as the redhead opened his mouth to protest, cutting off whatever Gaara had to say.

Sasuke smirked as the other boy reached for the paper bag in reflex, only for it to slip out of his grasp completely. Predictably though, the thing fell against a small disk of sand before it could reach the ground. Gaara's response to his amused grin was an unimpressed glower. T

here was silence from both parties as the redhead brought out the contents of the bag—a muffin, a shiny, red apple and a bottle of water—and began to eat, however reluctant the action may seem. As he finished the muffin, Gaara took the apple in hand and threw it at Sasuke without warning. "So. Why are you here?"

"I just told you. I'm here to make sure you eat. I didn't realize that was a thing now." Sasuke answered, easily catching the fruit with one hand. Maintaining the bored look he had on the Kazekage, the dark-haired boy bit into the apple, chewing thoughtfully and raising an eyebrow to match Gaara's challenging stare. "What?"

"You're lying." Gaara said, sipping a generous amount of water from the bottle and taking his time capping it close. "Both of us know you wouldn't listen to anything Naruto orders you to do. Much less anything tedious, like this." He informed Sasuke, meeting the onyx stare with his own. "Why are you really here?"

"How would you know for sure that I was lying? I was bored—"

"Lying." Gaara interrupted calmly. "You've done it twice, just now."

"Shut up, Sabaku."

Instead of following the offered suggestion, Gaara paused long enough to scrutinize the other shinobi, taking in the defensive tension in the Uchiha's body and the way he averted his gaze to look at anything but Katana. Come to think of it, Gaara hadn't seen him spare the girl on the bed so much as a fleeting glance. Understanding dawned to the redhead and his frown vanished, a stoic look taking over his face.

"You're here for Katana." He deadpanned, blinking at the idea and uncertain on how to react to it. "This is the first time you visited her, isn't it?"

There was more silence coming from the Uchiha's part and after a while of Gaara's patient staring, Sasuke finally looked at him again with a carefully blank mask, devoid of any visible emotion, placed over his face. "I've been busy." Sasuke excused and the reason he presented was so pathetic that Gaara didn't even pretend to buy it for a second. He crossed his arms and risked a glance at Katana, his gaze softening involuntarily. "Be it as it may", he muttered, staring quietly at the brunette and wishing—not for the first time—that it was him lying there instead of her, "I think Katana would have appreciated it if you'd visited sooner rather than after four months."

"What difference would it make?" Sasuke was quick to retort, bitterness creeping into his monotonous tone. "She's in a coma and unaware. It doesn't matter."

Despite the truth behind his statement, Gaara glared at him nonetheless, feeling the dull sting at his choice of words. Truth to be told, Gaara didn't like Uchiha Sasuke; not one bit, and he made it obvious. The shinobi—no matter how strong or gifted he was in the battlefield—was rude and selfish and inconsiderate, making him unworthy of any kind of respect, at least in the redhead's personal opinion. If asked to choose to hold a conversation between Uchiha Sasuke or a cactus, Gaara knew he would choose the inanimate, prickly plant without a moment's hesitation. The way he spoke of Katana brashly, without any regard for what the girl could've felt if she were awake, didn't help smoothen out the redhead's already ruffled view of him.

Pressing his mouth into a thin line of revulsion and deciding he was sick of tolerating any more of the Uchiha's callous statements, Gaara leaned back and allowed venom to finally escape him. "If it doesn't matter, then why are you here?"

Sasuke gave him an unreadable look, blinking slowly and looking thoroughly unaffected. It made Gaara's blood boil even more so. "You're right." The lad drawled out, pushing away from his chair and standing up, much to the redhead's confusion. "I shouldn't be here." Sasuke turned on his heel and strode towards the exit until a rope of sand wrapped around one of his legs and forced him to stop.

Craning his head back in the slightest way, Sasuke formed his mouth in a tight scowl. "Let go of me."

"No." Standing up, Gaara crossed his arms, glowering at the Uchiha's back. He allowed a tense minute to pass, carefully regarding the latter's hard breathing and stiff shoulders. "So you do care." Gaara murmured under his breath and from the way Sasuke tensed further, he knew he was right. "Why are you so afraid of showing that you care?"

"Oh, like you do?" Sasuke retorted bitingly, whipping his head around and finally letting anger to reflect on his face, his dark eyes burning cold. "Look at you, discovering love for the first time and clinging on to it like a desperate man. Emotion has made you soft, Kazekage." He hissed, spitting out his words in disgust. "Why would I want to follow your example—"

"That's a pathetic excuse and you know it." Gaara snarled in retaliation, undaunted by the silent promise of pain dancing in Sasuke's irate gaze. "Why can't you stop being insensitive for even just a moment? Katana is your teammate and she considers you one of her closest friends. She forgave you for everything you did—don't tell me you can't spare her a part of your stone cold heart."

"It wouldn't matter—"

"Yes, it would, you wretched bastard—"

"—at all. Don't fuck with me, Sabaku—"

"—swear to god, Uchiha. I will break your bones until you—"

The thick tension and haze of bloodlust lingering in the air was pierced through by a high-pitched noise that interrupted both young men in mid-insult, distracting Sasuke into finally looking at Katana, his eyes narrowed into a vicious glare and his mouth twisted into a grimace. Without any explanation, blood drained out of his Sasuke's face and horror took over his expression. Despite the rage that churned unpleasantly in his gut and made his ears ring, Gaara clenched his jaw at the shrill commotion that disrupted them and impatiently whirled around, aquamarine eyes swiftly searching for the source of the sound.

As soon as he did, the rage Gaara felt was forgotten and his heart jumped up to lodge itself in his throat, thundering uproariously. 'No…' Air vanished from the redhead's lungs and for a minute, the lad couldn't comprehend the situation from the thick panic and fear that clouded his mind. 'This isn't…supposed to happen.' His nightmare flashed once more behind his very eyes and shakily, Gaara realized that a part of it was happening that instant, mercilessly real. The lad kept on staring—frozen in fear and dumbstruck with shock—at the heart monitor that reflected off a single, endless line.

Katana's heart stopped.

And in some way, Gaara felt as if he died as well.

"Medic." He heard himself croak out weakly, Sasuke gasping gibberish from behind him. There was a shuffle of footsteps and then the sound of legs stumbling over one another before the flaps of the tent were pushed aside, letting in the biting cold breeze to enter. Gaara's alarmed shout for help echoed throughout as he ran out, Sasuke sprinting not far behind.

"MEDIC!"

End Chapter

Author's Extra Note: ...Whoops? Too much angst? So sorry to break your heart-Wait, what was that? I killed Katana?! :O

...Oh no. ;)

Sorry I'm not sorry. (insert evil laughter here) Don't drop me just yet! I swear it'll get better. I love you guys, seriously. Hold on, yeah?