It's the silence that gets to her, chills her to the bone; he doesn't scream or cry as he shoots up, eyes wide and panicked. Instead, the room is filled with only the loud rush of her blood, dizzying. His hand covers his scar, fingertips tracing its outline. He twists his nails into the skin, or at least tries to. Sand stops him before she can, and she's frozen to the spot. It's impossible—she's blocked his chakra, he shouldn't be able to. But still it moves, forming a barrier, an absolute defence. He stays like that, eyes wide and unseeing, their pale shade nearly indistinguishable from the white around it. His legs bend, raising themselves against his chest, arms encircling them, head lowering to his knees. His hands ball into fists, clenching and unclenching. It's something Sakura finds all too familiar, feeling a chill sweep down her limbs as she watches the ritual. She has to pinch herself, the irregular gallop that is her pulse drowning out her rationale.
In her fingers she feels the ghost of nights passed, where's she's awake but unseeing—seeing only pointed swords, cutting thunder and onyx eyes, worst of all herself forsaken. Left behind, forgotten. But she's a medical ninja, for fucks sake, and she'll keel over before she's ever convinced she's useless again. She reaches out, lays a hand on his shoulder—because comforting or not it's the only comfort she has to offer. His reflexes are lightning fast, head whipping around as his eyes pin her with their hatred—she's reminded of the taste of metal on her lips, the crunch of her bones—but it goes as fast as it comes, and in its place there's the relief of recognition. Words die on the tip of her tongue, twist themselves against the hold of her teeth. Instead there's an unspoken affirmation between them, and she dares not break the silence. She shifts her weight, sits herself beside him, her presence made real by the creak of the mattress and raise of his head.
Her arm wraps around his back, side pressed to side as she rests her temple against his shoulder, the warmth of his body a soothing relief to linger. It takes a while before he relaxes, before the tension oozes from his body and melts him into her hold. There's comfort in the familiar whiff of his shirt, and she can almost forget the pain she's seen in his eyes. She adds it to the growing list of things not to think about, her hand clenching and unclenching in her lap, reminding her they both have hurts to haunt them.
She wakes up to a note, attached to a small box. She doesn't recognise the handwriting, squinting her eyes at its message: 'Sorry, I had a meeting scheduled. I called the hospital to make sure you weren't needed. They told me you'd taken the week off, which is good. Please rest, I'll check in on you this afternoon. If you need anything before that, I'm at the Hokage tower. Gaara.' She blinks, narrows her eyes again, and frowns at the name. Why on earth... Oh shit! She burrows beneath the pillow, mentally slapping herself for being so stupid, shame burning its way up her neck—how could she fall asleep? He's supposed to be her patient, not the other way around. Yet here she is, in his bed, wasting the day away while he... she lifts her head, peering inside the box, feeling herself flush even further. Of course he's bought her breakfast. She groans, covering her face with her hands.
She can't believe she's made a fool of herself in front of the Kazekage... again. Taking a deep breath, she glances towards her scrolls, relieved to note she at least wrote down what she needed. Good, it's fine. So what if she shared a bed with Gaara? He couldn't have minded, or else he wouldn't have gotten her breakfast, right? She swallows the guilt blocking her throat, raising herself as she takes the box. The least she should be is grateful, so she makes sure to enjoy the food. How he manages to know all her favourite dishes is beyond her; Shikamaru doesn't know her that well, after all. But she decides not to question her luck, instead closing her eyes as she releases a contented sigh. It's been a while since she's had a decent breakfast, or allowed herself to sleep in for that matter. Despite only enjoying half a night's worth of it, she feels surprisingly well-rested.
Even so, there's still a hint of exhaustion behind her eyes, and once finished she decides taking another nap wouldn't hurt; Kazekage's orders after all. She rests her head, bending her legs as she burrows into the bed's comfort, noticing he still lingers upon its fabric. She takes a deep breath, feeling herself relax as sleep overtakes her.
Someone's at her door, and she feels tempted to ignore their presence. Stuck between somewhere and a dream, she curses when there's another knock. Grumbling to herself, she stretches against the hold of sleep, rubbing her eyes and wetting her lips as she stands. Her feet are still heavy, and she can't help but drag them across the floor. Yawning, she opens the door, blinking against the brightness of the sun. Her vision clears, but her sleep-addled brain takes several more seconds to catch up—panicking once it does.
"Gaara!" Shit. She smooths down her shirt, flips back her hair, and tries to appear casual.
His gaze sweeps her up and down, a heat creeping up her neck, warming her cheeks. "Good morning," he greets, and she swears he's raising a brow. "I take it you're well-rested?"
She nods—a little too frantically in her haste—sending him a thin-lipped smile, leaning a shoulder against her door-post.
"Good." He hesitates, running a hand through his hair and... is he nervous? "How fast can you get dressed?"
She frowns, searching his gaze. "I don't know, depends. Why?"
He looks away, crossing his arms. "Naruto invited you for dinner."
She straightens her back, shifting her weight. "Just me?"
"Well, no," he starts, and she notices the hint of pink tinging his cheeks. "He wanted me to come, but I told him I couldn't because I had other plans and..."
It's her time to raise a brow. "And he wouldn't stop asking until you told him?"
He releases a breath, shoulders slumping. "Yes."
"And then he insisted you bring me, too?"
"Yes."
She sighs, rubbing her temple. "Alright, come in and give me ten minutes."
He obeys in silence, accepting the seat she offers. She scurries off into her room, diving into her closet and collecting the items she needs, wasting no time before heading to the bathroom. She brushes her teeth and styles her hair, relieved it's still willing to cooperate after an entire day in bed. She kicks off her pants and discards her shirt, replacing them with a green sundress. She adds a hint of make-up, liking the way her lashes frame her eyes. She's finished within minutes, stepping around the corner with an excited grin. Gaara's taken off his jacket in the meantime, leaving him dressed in a rather snug shirt. She has to resist the straying of her eyes, trying not to think about the lean shape it reveals—it's Gaara, after all.
They head out, walking in silence, the sun casting their shadows across the pavement. It's a strange turn of events to find herself having dinner with him again, but she can't say she minds—if anything, she enjoys their time spent together. Little by little, she's growing more comfortable around him, shedding her initial diffidence (some of it, at least). With time, she's learning there are many things she appreciates about Gaara. He's reliable, honest, and best of all considerate. He could make someone very happy, if he'd let himself. She doesn't know what it is that holds him back—could it be he has no desire for romance? No, he's honest; if that were true he would have said so. Most likely it's his past keeping him at a distance. Admittedly, she doesn't know much about it, but if her experiences with jinchuuriki are anything to go by... Yet Naruto managed just fine, now happily married to one of the sweetest people Sakura knows. Gaara should be just as capable—his good looks an added bonus.
She finds herself throwing glances his way, convincing herself she's only trying to decide whether his shirt's navy or indigo. He looks up, causing her to stumble, quickly directing her eyes at their moving shadows. "Thanks for breakfast, by the way." She joins her hands behind her back, wanting nothing more than for him to realise how good a person he is—how much more life might offer him if he dared try.
"You're welcome."
"It was really nice of you."
"So was what you did."
She meets his gaze, searching his features, shrugging. "Just doing my job as a medic."
He closes his eyes, smiling as he shakes his head. It occurs to her they're walking much closer, and, biting her lip, she experimentally inches nearer. He doesn't move away, and she's certain it has to be a conscious decision. Why, she doesn't know—could be he doesn't mind as much as she thought. Part of her itches to know, to understand the duplicity that is Gaara and touch, but still she doesn't dare ask. Instead she reaches out, wrapping her hands around his forearm, hoping to incite in him the courage to at least consider.
"You do know it's your job to escort me, right?"
His eyes shoot to their joined limbs, and she notices they're slightly wider than usual. "It is?" He meets her gaze, and she has to swallow the dizzy flutter it evokes.
"Yes." She smirks, sending him a playful wink. "Tonight, I'm your plus one."
He averts his eyes, staring down the road as he clears his throat. "I didn't know. This is only my second dinner."
"Wait, your second?" That means... He's warm beneath her touch, and she wonders if one can grow addicted to the feel of someone's skin.
"I'm not really the type of person to be invited."
She blinks against the heaviness in her chest, straightens her back if only to shoulder her conviction. "But you're the Kazekage."
He nods, licking his lips—would they be soft and warm, too? "That's part of the reason." His gaze drops to their feet, something Sakura's grateful for, blood rushing to her face—did she really just wonder... "Those who no longer fear me, respect me. But respect is a double-edged sword. To them, I've become more of an idea, instead of a person."
She hums as she bites her cheek, fighting the warmth there, watching the wind blow his hair across his forehead, thinking it's a beautiful colour. "Well then," she musters a smile, squeezing his arm, feeling the beat of his heart beneath her fingertips, "tonight you're amongst friends—and to us, you'll always be Gaara." Friends. That's what they are now.
He meets her gaze, an answering smile forming on his lips, crinkling his eyes—she's never seen them crinkle before, and the sight does funny things to her stomach. The realisation creates a rift inside the cage of her ribs, spills a cold from there. It hadn't occurred to her, but the unwelcome thought of Sasuke enters her mind; whether he'd be bothered by their interactions. It's the last thing she wants tonight, the heavy gloom of it already weighing on her. After all, if he'd be bothered, then why hasn't she heard from him in months?
"You know, you haven't been a very good friend so far." Gaara places his hand over hers, startling her from her thoughts.
"What do you mean?" she asks through the malfunction of her lungs, breathless beneath his warmth.
His lips lift into a smirk she dares not look at, a playful glint in his eyes. "I thought friends were supposed to share, instead you left me in the cold last night."
She narrows her eyes, partly relieved to hear him joke about it. "Wait, are you accusing me of being a blanket hogger?"
"I'm just saying."
"You're real spoilt, you know that?" she huffs, feeling a smile pull at her lips. "You try sleeping once, and now there's no end to the entitlement." She attempts to imagine Sasuke teasing her over such trivial things, but can't conjure anything beside his annoyance.
"You're right." he turns his eyes to the road ahead, and she follows his gaze to Naruto's house, spotting Hinata at their gate. "I suppose you're much better than a blanket."
A beat, followed by another, ensuring her pulse still dances, although thundering, although drumming through the tips of her fingers—or is it his? She parts her lips, sucks in a breath, chest rising with hot air, static against her skin, and something tells her things just got complicated.