His hand on hers, the skin of his arm beneath her palm, warming her from the inside out. The sun spills through a roof of leaves, dotting the sand with its glow, creating stars upon a nearby stream. For a moment, everything's perfect—for just a second, she's whole and can imagine the smile on her lips to remain for all her days. He's gracious as he speaks, his voice a deep tremble in her chest, smooth enough to slip past her objections. It's nice, for a beat, to pretend any of this be hers to take, to clamp within her hold and never release. But he's Gaara, and she... she's lost her heart to the ghost in her life.

"Sakura! It's been so long," Naruto exclaims, capturing her in a hug, breaking the illusion she tries cling to.

"Yes," she musters a smile, returning his embrace, "it has." Since the wedding... since realising coming second is the best she'll do.

"It's so good seeing you, though! I hear you've been busy," he continues, stepping back, hands on her shoulders.

She nods, rubbing her arm, heavier under his weight. "Yes, it's been some crazy months."

"Tell me about it!" he laughs. "I'm just happy Gaara got you to join—there's so much we have to tell you."

She glances around their little group, from Hinata's glowing features to Gaara's soft smile, feeling the corners of her lips start to lift. "Me too," she says, and means it.

She hadn't realised how much she'd missed Naruto's cheer, his toothy grin an infectious habit, rubbing off on her within seconds. They're taken inside the new Uzumaki home, a place she had yet to visit—shame has her red-cheeked and silent, eyes taking in the cosiness present in every corner. She finds herself lingering at Gaara's side, rubbing shoulders through cramped hallways, sending apologetic smiles—though he doesn't seem to mind.

"It's a lovely home you have," he says—and she agrees.

"Thank you," Hinata smiles.

"Well it's no Kazekage mansion," Naruto laughs. "But it's home, you know."

Sakura's gaze darts between the two men.

"There's no value to something you haven't earned," Gaara amends, and she doesn't miss the tight set of his eyes.

"I guess we shouldn't get started on my appartement," she jokes, if only to lift the darkness she glimpses.

He looks at her. "Your appartement is fine." His brow puckers in a manner she thinks disapproving. "Aside from no one living in it."

She gasps, bumping his shoulder in challenge. "What are you now? My land-lord?"

He chuckles, but there's a lingering frown suggesting he means it. "I'm afraid such falls outside my jurisdiction."

"Well I heard you have a mansion to share if you're so worried about jurisdiction." Her breath seizes as soon as the words are out, and this time she sees her blush mirrored on his cheeks.

He clears his throat. "And upset your Hokage?"

"Yeah, Sakura-chan!" Naruto exclaims, "we couldn't miss you."

She forces a laugh. "I'm not going anywhere, no worries." She has nowhere to be, after all, and she wonders if she's justified feeling stuck in a life she isn't sure suits her.

They head for the living room, taking their seats around the dinner table. Sakura sits next to Gaara this time, his warmth lingering in the air between them. She keeps silent as they talk—mostly mundane topics—watching Gaara as he speaks. Her cheeks warm at the memory of what he's told her, and she averts her eyes, probing her food before looking up.

Naruto's gaze darts between them, then, his hands stilling. "So, things must be getting serious between the two of you, right?"

She feels another rush of blood, her eyes widening. "No, we're not dating!"

"Oh, well I assumed since you..."

"We're just sleeping together." Dead serious, features utterly unreadable.

"No, no! We're not-"

"Are you saying we didn't?" Gaara asks, meeting her gaze,

"I mean, yes, but..." she stammers, blood searing in her veins. Does he even realise what he's implying here? Surely he's not that dense—if she remembers correctly he's played this trick before. Which means... "Wait," she sits back, narrowing her eyes, "are you fucking with me?"

"Language," he raises a brow, but there's the dawning of a smirk on his lips, and she'd be damned if he weren't fighting it.

The bastard! Well, she isn't one to take things lying down, and she's fairly certain two can play this game. "You tricked me into it, remember?"

"You proposed, I accepted."

"You knew I couldn't refuse!"

"You shouldn't fling such accusations over dinner."

She laughs. "You're the one implying we're having sex!"

"I would never," he refutes drily, managing to look genuinely affronted.

Hinata has turned crimson as her husband eyes the both of them. "So you're not?"

Gaara folds his hands before his chin. "Sakura's helping me sleep."

"Oh..."

"Nothing more," she emphasises, her amusement lingering on her lips as she sends Gaara a scolding look.

"Wow," Naruto runs a hand through his hair, sitting back. "You know, you just cost Grandma a buck-load of money."

Sakura frowns. "What, Tsunade? Why?"

"Well, it's sort of a game among the Kages to place bets, so... There's been one on wether Gaara would ever sleep or not."

Shock, followed by disbelief, her fists ramming the table. "You what!"

"Hey," Naruto raises his hands, releasing a nervous laugh, "it's just a harmless game."

"Harmless?" she shrieks. "This is his health! And you're placing money on that! Instead of helping?"

"It's fine," Gaara interjects.

"No it's not fine," she throws his way, scowling as she returns to Naruto. "What kind of a friend are you?" Then to Gaara: "and you!" He looks genuinely surprised to be caught in the middle, pale eyes gone wide. "You shouldn't allow them to patronise you like that!"

He shrugs. "I don't mind."

"Well you should."

He parts his lips, but no words follow. His eyes dart across her face, and in them she sees the words too caustic to share; 'at least they're not afraid'. It breaks the leftover pieces of her heart, realising she's done the exact same. God, they're stupid, both of them—she's not used to feeling the burn of hypocrisy, and she's sure she carries it on her skin.

"You're right, Sakura," Hinata says. "Naruto should apologise—what kind of friend would he be otherwise?"

"Yes," Naruto quickly nods. "I am sorry, Gaara. It was stupid."

"You're forgiven."

"Good..." he slackens, breathing a sigh. "Because, you know, I did plan on making you godfather."

Sakura straightens, glancing between the married couple, understanding dawning on her.

"And you godmother, Sakura." Hinata blushes.

Gaara remains completely silent beside her, fingers curling around his cutlery. She swallows, warmth blooming in her chest, a stinging in her eyes. Sniffling, she wipes at them, feeling a grin tug at her lips.

"I can't believe this, guys," she says through her smile, "that's amazing news!"

"I know right!" Naruto boasts, positively glowing. "Everyday I have to remind myself I'm not dreaming."

She's certain he looks the happiest she's ever seen him, and in her excitement she takes their hands from across the table, squeezing them in her own. "I'm so happy for the both of you." She can't help the tears rolling down her cheeks, teeth worrying her lip as she looks at her two friends. No longer are they rookies from the Academy; they've managed to grow up without her, and now they'll be the first to lead in the next generation. "How far along?"

"Two months," Hinata says, eyes bright as stars. "I wasn't sure at first, but then all the signs were there, and..." she smiles, the type of smile reserved for delighted mothers. "I just knew." It's heartwarming, and the happiness Sakura feels overshadows any sense of self-doubt.

"Congratulations," Gaara says, "to both of you." Sakura watches his smile, noting its unfamiliarity, sensing something off—realising it doesn't reach his eyes. It's almost businesslike in its politeness, and she can only wonder about its reasons.

They're in the kitchen, cleaning whatever remains of dinner. She stands scraping left-overs from a plate, deep in thought as Naruto passes by.

"Sakura-chan..." he starts, his hesitance grabbing her attention, "do you know what you're doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I just..." he averts his gaze, looking at anything but her. "This is Gaara."

She feels her breath leave her. "So?"

"So..." he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, suggesting his reluctance with the topic. "I don't want to see him get hurt."

She's taken aback, heart an irregular gallop. "What are you even implying?" She narrows her eyes, putting away the plate before crossing her arms.

"Nothing, it's just-"

"Well, clearly it is something, or else you wouldn't think it worth mentioning."

He lowers his hands, looking her in the eye, releasing a deep breath as he appears to collect himself. "I've just never heard him joke," he pauses, then adds: "or laugh."

She glares, shifting her weight. "Perhaps you're not as funny as you'd like to think."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

He shakes his head, a grave look settling over him. "I know he might seem strong—put together—but you don't know what he's been through." 'What we've been through', she hears. "You could hurt him in ways you won't even expect—just... don't get his hopes up." 'someone like you could never understand'. Another pause. Then: "have you heard from him?"

It pains her, and she finds herself leaning against the counter, the sting of it causing her thoughts to lag behind. "Who?" she finally asks, shaking her head.

"Sasuke."

Right... Somehow Gaara had managed to make her forget all about him—something she should probably be grateful for. "No."

He nods, averting his gaze.

And she doesn't want to, yet still finds herself asking: "have you?"

He stills, eyes offering plenty of insight despite his silence. "I-" he stammers, pausing.

"Have you?" She's tired of it, this game of run and chase, and wonders why Naruto would bring it up if he doesn't at least dare be honest. She's about to push away from the counter, ready to return to the others, when he interrupts.

"Yes. He writes me every week."

She isn't surprised; somehow she knew all along, perfectly aware thinking she came second was a bit generous. She nods, fumbling with her sleeve, moving its fabric between her fingers. "I'm glad he keeps you updated," she says, unable to recognise the sound of her own voice. She moves, then, passing without a second glance.

"Sakura wai-" Naruto starts, but she rounds the corner before he can finish. The outside air is fresh as it hits her, washing some of the heat from her veins, allowing her to breathe easier. Gaara and Hinata stand several feet away, softly conversing, looking out into the garden. He turns at the sound of her, pale features illuminated by the final rays of sunshine, bathing him in gold—he's beautiful, and the fact he's something she'll never understand strikes her as cruel. She feels nervous as she answers his smile, the ache in her chest worsened by his kindness. She swallows against the closing of her throat, blinks away the tears in her eyes.

"I think we should go," she manages to say, balling her fists at the fragility of it. "It's getting late, and..."

He nods, and she'd almost curse him for his grace, eyes warm as he thanks Hinata, wishes her all the best. She wants to do the same, wants so badly to be the friend they deserve, but her voice is lost somewhere in the hollow of her heart, and all she manages is an agreeing smile.

"You're leaving?" Naruto asks as he steps out, and he carries his regret in the hesitance of his smile—but it's no difference, regret or not, it doesn't change what's true.

"Yes, I think it's best we..." Her arms wrap around her ribs, shelter her feelings. "A consistent rhythm is key." She nods, more to herself than anyone else—as if she'll be more convincing that way. She feels Gaara's presence before she sees him, his warmth a gentle caress against her shoulder. It isn't until she looks that she realises it's his hand sliding down her back, his touch featherlight, balancing her.

"Thank you, Naruto," he says, and she closes her eyes at the sound of him. "I'll keep in contact regarding the issues we've discussed."

Naruto grins, rubbing his neck. "You're welcome—just let me know whenever you need a break from those geezers, alright?"

"Will do." His hand is there to guide her, allowing her time to react before they start moving. "Good night."

"Thank you guys," she says, waving at them over her shoulder, avoiding the pity in Naruto's gaze. She's grateful for Gaara's presence, keeping close to his side, seeking shelter in the bend of his arm. They walk out into the street in silence, and she wants nothing more than to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Tell me if I'm overstepping." She looks up at the sound of his voice, meeting his gaze with searching eyes. "You seemed upset," he continues, looking away, "and I'm not too experienced dealing with such things."

It takes her a moment to understand, the gestures so natural to her she wouldn't think to second guess them. "This is perfect," she smiles, leaning in to him, "thank you." She closes her eyes, allowing her head to drop against him. He stiffens at first, the beat of his heart drumming in her ear, betraying his own nerves. He's encouraged by her acceptance, his hold growing firmer as he relaxes, and she's happy he's braver than she. Naruto's words replay at the back of her mind, reminding her she's wrong for accepting this man's kindness, for allowing him to open his heart to her. If there's anything she's realised tonight, it's that Gaara doesn't offer himself to just anyone—and though it fills her with a giddy sense of pride, she's also aware her selfishness risks more than she's worth.

"Tomorrow's your final day, right?" she asks, fumbling with her scrolls.

"It is." He stares at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest.

She nods, biting down on her pen, gaze darting between him and her notes. "Any plans?"

He turns to look at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Not yet."

She grins, folding her legs beneath her. "Fine, you caught me," she starts, a flutter in her chest. "I was thinking we could... hang out?"

He smiles, gaze returning to the ceiling. "I'd like that."

"Good!" Relief, followed by excitement.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, let's see," she taps her chin, eyes wandering the room, "it has to be something you can't in Suna..."

"Sleep?"

She releases a laugh. "No, something we can do toge-" she cuts herself off, blood rushing to her face. "I mean-"

He chuckles, grin exposing his teeth, she finds herself staring at his canines; they're sharp, like Naruto's, and—to her—it endears him further.

"I think I have an idea," she smirks, "but it'll be a surprise."

"I think," he slurs, and she notices his eyes have closed, "I'll like surprises." She can tell he's falling asleep, his features starting to relax. She writes down the time, listening as his breathing slows. Leaning forward, she gently brushes his hair to the side, telling herself it's only to keep it out his eyes. She smiles, thinking she'll have to ask him about his skin care, when she brushes along his scar. She pulls back, holding her hand to her chest, Naruto's words returning. Because he's right; she has absolutely no idea about Gaara's experiences.

She keeps close watch as the time to wake him nears, readying her chakra. Her pulse is thick in her veins, throbbing through her skull. She's nervous, but she supposes she has every right to be; his sand had moved without chakra, and she's mindful to keep an eye on his gourd. So far he's been sound asleep, showing no obvious signs of distress, but she can tell things are starting to turn by the twist of his brow. The clock hits the appropriate mark, and she reaches out a chakra covered hand, casting a green glow across his features. Resting her palm against his forehead, she channels a healing flow, sending a gentle current through his mind. She pulls him from slumber, his reaction instant. His eyes open, locking onto her, revealing—for just a fraction—the things he keeps from the world. He blinks, looks around, and moves to sit up, her hand dropping to her side. He stares off into nothing for a while, chest rising and falling with every slow breath. She isn't sure if she should break the silence, and feels relieved when he does.

"That wasn't too bad." His voice is hoarser than usual, and she can hear whatever he's felt still in its tone.

"It shouldn't be," she says, clearing her throat. "The point is to prevent the worst."

He nods, but she can tell he isn't all there, eyes still staring straight ahead, seeing things she'll never. He releases a shaky breath, lifts his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. There's a lifetime written in the shadows hugging his features, his frown drawing lines that speak of his turmoil. "It feels sort of disingenuous doesn't it?" he asks, head resting in his hands, gaze faraway. She's never heard him talk this softly, and she finds herself scooting closer.

"What does?"

He looks up, eyes roaming her features in the dark, their outline highlighted by the sliver of moon. "I'm neither Naruto's best friend, nor do I live in the same village." He turns away, bringing his knees to his chest, arms resting against them. "By all means, appointing me godfather feels more like an act of pity."

"I'm sure he-" she pauses, because she isn't, and she'd probably feel the same if she were him. Naruto knows Gaara's reasons for coming to Konoha, knows he isn't planning on fathering children himself. By all means, she would have expected him to pick Sasuke, and she realises Gaara probably did too.

"And then what? Were anything to happen to them. Would we take turns? What would even be the point?"

She doesn't know—after all, it'd be safe to assume she'd be with Sasuke. Appointing him godfather would make every bit more sense. "Perhaps he values your understanding his past?" She tilts her head, searching his features. "Because you are alike, and he wants that for his children?"

He meets her gaze. "We're nothing alike." He surprises her with his certitude. "Yes, we've had similar experiences, but he and I are worlds apart."

She sucks in a breath, tucks her hair behind her ear, and nods. She's starting to see—despite everything she thought she knew—in the end, Naruto understands him no more than she might.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, surprising her, "I didn't intend to..." he pauses, resting his chin in his palm, eyes faraway again. She watches him sit like that, lost in thought, hair tousled by sleep. Again, he strikes her as young, and she aches at the idea of distance between them.

"Please, don't be," she says, raising a hand to his hair, wiping it from his brow, needing to feel connection. "I understand."

He meets her gaze, and she feels now more than ever they're alike in ways more significant than what they once were—it doesn't matter what sets them apart, what differences they can count, so long as her heart dances to the song his presence sings to her now. She allows her hand to return to her side, still warm with the feel of him on her fingertips. His gaze follows it, then flicks back to her face, studying her. She fills her chest with air, holds it there so as not to disturb the moment. She feels swallowed by his eyes, the black rings surrounding them like endless fissures in the dark, leaving her unable to look away. She doesn't notice he moves, at first, not until he averts his gaze. There's no need for her to speak, and she doesn't as she accepts his invitation, taking the space he's created for her. The mattress dips beneath her weight, the blanket already warmed by him. She isn't sure who needs it more—perhaps they're equally starved—either way she's grateful for the relief, if only for one more night.