Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any characters associated with it

Dear Reader,

I cannot thank you enough for joining me on this journey. This story has been a part of me for son long, and I am happy to finally share it in its entirety with you.

Please enjoy the final installment of A One Month Bet, and thank you for being here.

A One Month Bet

The warm, amber glow of the Suna sun was slowly dipping on the horizon as Gaara turned over another parchment. He wearily glanced back at the small circular windows, silently cursing the fading light. He much preferred it rather than the yellow flicker of lamplight each night as the hours wore on, but he was resigned to his fate. Every evening the sun disappeared, and every night he holed himself away with his lamps and his papers, avoiding the moonlight that so used to soothe him.

Now it just made him ache.

At least if he kept working, kept awake, kept distracted, the ache was tolerably numb. He built a sort of livable existence again over the last few months, and that was good enough for Gaara. He had his village. He had his citizens. He did not need anything else.

His dark eyes slide to the date on his newest parchment. Hmm, he thought. It had been over a week since he'd commanded Temari to travel to Konoha. He should have heard news by now, or at least notification of her return. He idly wondered if his sister had somehow been otherwise occupied in the Leaf Village. Maybe she had run into—?

"Agh." Gaara groaned and rubbed his face. Even when he wasn't trying to think about her, she still found a way. It was like he was infected with some poison that he would never be rid of. It was just slowly killing him, little by little, even in moments when he was almost able to forget about it.

But Haruno Sakura was not a poison. She was just a person. A person he would eventually escape.

Eventually.

A quiet knock drew his gaze, which instantly narrowed. He gave strict orders to not be disturbed for a reason.

"Yes?"

There was a muffled response from the other side of the door, and though he could not make out the words clearly, he did recognize the voice.

"Not now, Kankuro."

Not ever, Kankuro. Go away.

Despite his refusal, Gaara watched the door slide open. Irritation burned his insides. He looked up from his desk scornfully. This had better be important.

Kankuro's painted face slipped through the doorway, followed cautiously by the rest of him. He gave Gaara an uncomfortable look as he gently closed the door behind him.

"Uhh… Hey Gaara."

Gaara did not respond. He only glared at his brother, silently daring him to explain why exactly he had the nerve to interrupt like this. The city had better be on fucking fire or some other such calamity to warrant this intrusion.

Kankuro heaved a heavy sigh and stepped forward. It was brave of him, Gaara thought, already feeling his chakra mounting. The dying light of the sunset through the windows made the shadows on Kankuro's face look even starker than they normally did… or maybe that was just Kankuro's natural expression these days. Gaara had not spoken to or seen him in weeks. He'd been occupying him with surveillance missions around the Suna border for the last several months, if only partially to keep him away from the Kage tower as much as possible.

In fact…wasn't he on assignment right now?

Gaara's brain slowly caught up to him as Kankuro stopped about midway in the room, his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. Now that Gaara could see him closer, he did look sort of grimy, as though he had just arrived from being out on patrol in the desert. So presumably, he was here for a reason. The patrol must have caught something… or someone.

"What's happened?" Gaara asked coolly. "Has your patrol captured something of interest?"

Kankuro clicked his tongue. "Well… sort of. We intercepted a traveling messenger at the border."

That was it? A messenger? So they had to undergo the typical travelers' assessment like any passers-through would. It was a common procedure. So what brought Kankuro here?

When Kankuro hesitated, Gaara became impatient. "So?" he pressed, his frustration heating. "Are they a threat?"

Kankuro grimaced uncomfortably. "Not… exactly?"

Gaara gripped the edge of his desk angrily. His gourd quivered behind him as his patience quickly dissolved.

"Kankuro—" he warned.

Kankuro rolled his neck. "It's special correspondence… from Konoha."

Gaara blinked. Konoha? His shoulders slackened slightly. It must be from Temari, then. But why didn't Tsunade just send a hawk? If it was a personal messenger, why hadn't Temari just returned herself?

While Gaara's brain slowly rolled over this information, Kankuro shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. Finally, his anxiety won out.

"Gaara," he said tentatively, "It's her…"

Gaara felt a cold sting lance through his chest, as though he had been stabbed through with some form of invisible genjutsu. He did not need the clarification, even though Kankuro gave it a moment later:

"It's Sakura."

Gaara's body remained still and motionless, but Kankuro could sense the building tension filling the air of the room. He watched his little brother nervously, removing his hands from his pockets and holding them outward in a calming manner.

"Listen," he said cautiously, "We have her in custody. She came cooperatively and asked to speak with you directly…" He paused, weighing his words before he said them, "But you just give me the word, and we'll send her away. I'll escort her all the way back to her own village if I have to."

Still having not moved, Gaara finally let his eyes slide closed and his brow furrowed. She had come back, but for what? She had made her position clear, hadn't she? What more could she want from him after she had made it so blatantly clear that she did not want more from him?

But despite his mounting anger, the betrayal and hatred and pain surfacing within him, there was something else—small and feeble, like a flicker of a candle in a dim room. It was nearly extinguished, but something inside of him desperately clung to its warmth as though it was last ray of light left in a dark, cavernous hole.

The feeling was hope. There was not much of it left, but it simmered in his chest, fluttering like it was fighting to be reignited before it faded fully away. One, last, desperate attempt.

Gaara stood slowly and faced away from Kankuro. It was selfish, maybe, even childish for him to hide his face, but he did not want to see his brother's reaction. Kankuro was probably right to take her away. Maybe that was the right thing to do. But it was not what Gaara wanted.

Maybe he wanted to yell at her, banish her from Suna himself.

Maybe he wanted to fight her, a challenge of physicality and skill to settle their accord.

Maybe he wanted to see her beg for his forgiveness only so he could deny it.

—Or…

Maybe he wanted to engulf her in his arms and never let her go again.

Gaara did not know which of these was the right scenario, but there was only one way to find out…and that required having Sakura there in front of him.

"Let her in."

Kankuro stared helplessly at his brother's turned back. "Gaara, are you sure you—"

"Do it."

Gaara continued to gaze out the small windows, his body buzzing with adrenaline and anticipation. He heard Kankuro's footsteps slowly recede, followed by the click and slide of the heavy door. There a few long, tensive moments of silence and then the door reopened and closed again.

He could feel his heart slamming into his chest.

He could feel his body tensing.

He could hear the gentle tack-tack of footfalls approaching.

Gaara felt her presence crashing over him like cold water, running down his scalp and spine in a painful shiver. He did not turn around. He had wanted to face her, but now that she was here, he couldn't. Sakura, the woman he had come to care for, admire, and trust—the woman he had come to love so strongly and so quickly—the woman that had left him broken and alone…

She was there. Just behind him.

And he was frozen in place.

They both stood there, quiet and still, for a long time. Long enough that the sunset dipped nearly all the way below the horizon line, coating the room in warm, red hues, the last feeble effort of the sunlight still clinging to the edge of day.

Gaara remained still, keeping his back turned in resolve of injured pride and fear. Fear that he would be hurt again. Fear that all his insecurities were achingly true, that he would never be loved, not really. Fear that he would only have this shell of an existence where he served only one purpose for his village.

But it was an existence he had built for himself, wasn't it? Even if it was all he had, it was a role he had worked for and earned. It was a role that he still shouldered with respect and pride. He tensed his jaw, angry at himself for feeling so weak. How had this one woman so easily dismantled his entire being? She was just some jonin medic from Konoha. He was the Kazekage of Sunagakure. This was his home. This was his domain.

He would not be made to feel powerless. Not anymore.

Straightening his back, Gaara inhaled slowly. He would be the first to speak, to take control of this situation. He tilted his chin slightly and asked:

"Why are you here?"

He waited one heartbeat, two heartbeats, and then…

"I have a message from the Hokage."

His heartbeats stopped for a second. Fuck. Her voice. He thought he would never hear it again. It sounded the same as he remembered, though quieter now. No hint of laughter of smile in her tone. Just resignation.

He squeezed his eyes closed, steeling himself against the inevitable. It was like he could not trust fully that she was there. He heard her, but he'd heard that voice in his mind so often that he did not believe it was real. He needed to see her in front of him, prove that she was not just some painful illusion as he had since grown accustomed to.

He turned slowly, letting his gaze drag over the perimeter of the room, tracing the line of the wall until his frame of vision slid far enough in her direction.

And it was real, after all.

Sakura was there. Standing in the middle of his office.

He felt his chest constrict uncomfortably, but he dared not to react. He let his eyes wander over her, taking in every detail. She was standing formally, her hands crossed in front of her and her feet slightly apart. Her pink, petal hair seemed a little longer now, just barely brushing her narrow shoulders. He swallowed hard as his gaze landed on her face—that beautiful face—her mouth was closed in a thin line, but her eyes…

He could see her eyes flicker reflexively when they locked with his. It was like she could not hide the unconscious muscle movement, even though she tried to appear indifferent.

With the two of them now facing one another, the air in the room felt suddenly too warm. Gaara could feel the burn of humiliation and shame and anger rising along the back of his neck, but it was clear he was not the only one affected. A pink blush was just barely visible along Sakura's collarbone, peaking out above the edge of her vest. It had not reached her lovely face yet, but Gaara could almost see it moving underneath her translucent, porcelain skin.

Suddenly Sakura's eyes dipped, shielding her seafoam orbs from his view. It was her turn to take initiative. With tentative steps, she walked forward, reaching to unclip her hip pouch and retrieve something: a scroll. It felt like time somehow moved slower the closer she came to him, until they were only separated by his desk. She was now so close he could smell her strawberry scent wafting through the air as she moved, placing the scroll on the desk in front of him.

If he only reached out his hand, he could touch her…

But then she retracted… not all the way back to the center of the room, but far enough that there was palpable distance between them again. Gaara blinked at the sour feeling rising in his throat, assuring himself that it was irritation and not disappointment. He eyed the scroll cautiously. What was Tsunade up to? Why send correspondence via foot messenger instead of by hawk? Why was that messenger her own personal apprentice, of all people? This obviously had nothing to do with Temari's trade agreement visitation. This was something uncalled for.

His eyes flicked up to Sakura and narrowed. "What is it?"

"A proposal," she answered softly, "Regarding the allyship between Konoha and Suna."

A proposal? For what? Curious but skeptical, Gaara took the scroll, slowly unfurling it to see small, neat handwriting filling nearly the entire parchment. The letter was formally addressed to him, the Kazekage, and Tsunade's seal was clearly stamped at the bottom, but there was so much written he had to blink a few times and hold it closer to read the finely printed details. His brain furiously tried to absorb what the letter read, but even after scanning it he glanced back at Sakura with a questioning look.

"Tsunade is requesting a Suna-Konoha relations liaison?"

Finally, the blush had reached Sakura's cheeks as she nodded, trying very hard to maintain eye contact. He tried not to notice how her bottom lip snagged under her teeth as she looked back at him.

"Yes," she swallowed. "We believe Suna and Konoha have the distinct opportunity to make our alliance even stronger, to work cooperatively not as two separate villages, but as one united entity."

Gaara stared at her, his expression blank. Sakura took a breath, perhaps gathering her courage, and stepped forward again.

"The proposal states that each village will designate a stakeholder representative that will serve as the other Kage's liaison, voicing opinions, agreements, and dissents regarding their village's position on matters that may affect both jurisdictions. This ensures Konoha will always have an advocate present in Suna's authoritative decisions and Suna will have the same in Konoha's decisions. This way both villages will be able to work and grow in ways that benefit both territories cooperatively."

Gaara lowered the scroll as Sakura's words slowly seeped through his consciousness. Her explanation was proficient and sterile, spoken like a true politician's apprentice… but the real meaning behind her words stretched deeper.

"Representative liaisons," Gaara echoed, "For each Kage…?"

Sakura nodded again, and Gaara wondered if he imagined the shudder he thought he saw run through her.

"Yes, um," her true personality seemed to be cracking through the formal façade, "Temari has already accepted the role to serve on behalf of Suna, pending your agreement."

Temari…what? Gaara balked. So that's why she had not returned or sent any communications yet. She was apparently holed up somewhere in Konoha, willing to jump right into Tsunade's lap without so much as a passing inquiry to her Kazekage. Where on earth did this proposal even come from? Who even came up with such a—?

And then Gaara's brain slowly caught up to him.

If Temari was serving as the Suna liaison in Konoha, then…

He scoffed lightly. "And who would be serving on behalf of Konoha?"

Finally, Sakura looked up at him, her formal exterior falling all the way away. She looked much smaller now. Her eyes looked slightly glassy and her lips were just barely parted as she stared at him meaningfully.

"Me."

Gaara could feel every nerve of his body light up. He placed the scroll back on his desk, his head buzzing with a new sort of energy.

"What are you saying?"

Sakura, cleared her throat, trying to regain some of her composure. She launched back into what was obviously a well-practiced monologue:

"There are of course certain parameters to consider," She said uncomfortably. "Both representatives must acknowledge that their primary obligation is to their home villages, no matter the situation. This means that at any point we may be pulled for missions in our home villages, no questions asked. And the Hokage also requests that we spend a minimum of ten days in our home villages every other month, so that we do not become too far removed from the needs and expectations of our own jurisdictions. Those ten-day leave periods also do not include mission days, but due consideration will be given to mission assignments. I won't be pulled out to do a mission unless it's determined that I am explicitly needed on the team, and Tsunade expects for you to observe the same reservations for Temari."

Gaara only blinked at her, hardly listening to whatever she was trying to explain. She had not answered the question he was really asking, and he felt somehow that Sakura knew what he meant but was avoiding it purposely. Suddenly feeling bolder, Gaara slid around the side of his desk, coming to face her more directly. He tried again.

"What are you saying, Sakura?"

Sakura blinked furiously and her mouth fell open slightly as he said her name. He could see her chest rising and falling with her every breath. She was so close, now.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but eventually she regained her voice. "It means… I would stay in Suna..." she whispered.

His whole body felt numb. The little flicker of hope danced fretfully inside him, growing ever warmer. But the cruel grip of fear tried to stifle it again. Why should he give her the chance? Why should he tempt fate? He might only get hurt again.

Fear won out over hope. "And if I refuse the proposal?" he sneered, unable to hold back his distrust. He instantly regretted it when he saw her face fall.

"You have every right to," she admitted, folding her hands in front of her. "I…I wouldn't blame you if you did." He thought that would be it, Sakura quietly resigning to his disapproval, but then she looked back up at him. There was strength behind her eyes. Her chest continued to rise and fall in short, pressured breaths.

"But…" she said firmly, "If you do accept, it will give me the chance to repair some things that I left unfinished." She tilted her chin up. "I could spend more time with Mei Tai and the medical unit, ensuring she feels confident in her role as chief medic. I also strongly believe that the Suna greenhouses are vastly underutilized. I could help foster the development of a whole new botanicals unit. I know several species of plant that we could propagate from Konoha and raise here in the greenhouses for medical and combative purposes."

She finished strongly, overflowing with a familiar confidence that she always had when she spoke from her expertise, but then her eyes lowered. Her delicate pink lashes fluttered in the fading red light, casting purple shadows down her cheeks. Her voice became softer.

"But… really… the thing that I most regret leaving unfinished is…" she swallowed, clearly struggling while Gaara watched her intently, "I know that I… hurt you…"

Her lip trembled and she bit it hard. Gaara could feel the aching pain spreading through his limbs again, remembering every thing that happened that day she left. The way her eyes had avoided him. The way she coldly ignored his desperate attempt to cling to her. He remembered how much it hurt to be so fully connected to her in one moment and then left lonely and unwanted in the next.

Sakura looked at him frantically, perhaps hoping he would say something, but he didn't. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Gaara, I…"

Hearing his name on her lips made the flicker inside flash hotly.

"I'm so sorry for how I left," she said finally. When she looked back up her eyes were watery, but she seemed to be trying very hard to keep her voice even. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, and I accept that. But if I stayed here in Suna, maybe…" she took a shuddering breath, "…maybe I can try to fix what I broke."

They stared at each other in numbed silence, long enough for the red rays of the sunset to fade and for the purple-blue shadows of nightfall to start carving dark angles in the walls around them. Gaara waited to see if Sakura had anything more to say, but after a long while he found himself unable to hold it any longer. His insecurity and distrust were slowly eating at his little flame of hope.

"What if it can't be fixed?" he asked tightly.

Sakura's lashes dipped, and her mouth tweaked upward in a sad sort of smile. It was almost like she expected such a response. "Maybe it can't be," she agreed, "But I'm here because I want to try anyways." She slid one small, tentative step forward, edging just the slightest bit closer to him, and he sucked in a breath subconsciously. "Gaara," she began softly, "The proposal was my idea. Tsunade was absolutely against it until I… I told her the truth."

Gaara gripped his hand reflexively. The truth? How much had she told Tsunade exactly? What details would have convinced the Hokage to part with her second-in-command?

"What truth?"

He found himself leaning forward without even realizing it. Their faces were inches from each other now, and Sakura's eyes shimmered as her gaze roamed his face.

"I-I told her…" he breath had quickened as she struggled to speak clearly, "I told her I wanted to return to Suna so I could…be with you."

On her last words, Sakura's eyes slid closed like she was too afraid of Gaara's reaction to keep looking at him. He stared at her wordlessly, drinking in her beautiful existence there in front of him. And with Sakura's eyes no longer watching him, he felt the tug of a smile pulling at his cheek. The flicker inside flushed brightly as though ignited with hot fuel, burning his chest from the inside out. Sakura had requested to return to Suna. She had volunteered herself against her own Hokage's wishes.

Because she wanted to come back.

Because she wanted him.

Like a magnet, Gaara felt himself being pulled downward. Where there was only mere inches, it felt like he was falling for miles in slow motion until they were so close he could feel the baby hairs of her skin, feel the charge of electricity buzzing between them.

But it was Sakura who leaned up to meet him, pressing their lips together gently.

And finally the flicker burst into a full raging fire, roaring to life As Gaara pressed down, his arms instinctually encircling her small waist and pulling her to him. Sakura sucked in a gasp of air as though she had been painfully holding her breath—and maybe she had been—but then her arms laced up wrap around his neck, her fingers digging into his coarse hair. It was amazing. Her taste was just as he remembered it. Her smell, her touch. The softness of her skin. The warmth of her mouth on his. Everything in him felt alive again. Months of anguish were instantly erased, replaced by the hazy, burning heat of having her in his arms again. It was like she had never been gone. They had magically experienced some sort of shift in time and space such that she had never left his side at all. She was his the whole time. And he would never let her go again.

He could feel her body shaking against him, but he did not pull away until he felt a distinct, hot wetness on his cheek. He pulled his mouth away but kept his forehead pressed to Sakura's unwilling to lose the physical contact that he had missed so much.

"Why are you crying?"

Sakura shuddered, her voice cracking. "I-I'm just… I wasn't sure you w-would…accept me back." She furiously tried to wipe the traitorous tears escaping her big, wide eyes. "I-I'm so sorry for leaving you how I d-did. I've hated myself every single day s-since…"

Gaara pressed forward, slotting his lips over hers and stopping her confession before she could finish it. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to be reminded of that horrible day. He wanted only the here and now, the feeling of her breath crashing across his cheek and the pressure of her lips on his.

When he withdrew a second time, they both found themselves a little breathless, Sakura's arms still entwined around his neck and her face still wet. Gaara raised a hand to swipe his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tear streaks. He did not know what to say. He could not formulate into words his relief, his joy, his heartache. He simply held her tightly, feeling her slight frame in his arms. After months of emptiness, he finally felt whole again.

Sakura smiled at him and leaned her cheek into his palm. He self-consciously worried it might be too rough against her delicate skin, but she didn't seem to mind. She even unlocked one of her arms to press her hand against his own, holding it to her cheek affectionately.

"So, do you… accept the proposal?"

Gaara blinked. He'd quite forgotten about the Suna-Konoha liaison business. Frankly in the moment he could absolutely care less about the stupid scroll on his desk. But his foggy mind was slowly coming back into focus.

This position was not at all like the last one. The last time Sakura had approached him in his office with a scroll from the Hokage, he had quickly dismissed it. Training the medic team in only a month? How could this one kunoichi expect to complete such a task in so short an amount of time?

As it turned out, Sakura had been able to do quite a lot in just a month. Not least of which was capture the Kazekage's heart.

But a month was still only a blip in the timeline, seemingly over nearly as soon as it began. This proposal was different. A personal liaison from Konoha had the potential of an indefinite timeline. It was the kind of role that would perhaps never go away, it would only cycle through new appointees when the time called for it. So in a way, he would have Sakura with him possibly… forever.

As long as he was Kazekage.

As long as they still wanted each other.

With his hand already cupping her face, Gaara pulled Sakura to him so that their lips were almost touching, such that she could feel his mouth against hers as he whispered,

"Yes."

And then they were lost in one another again. Gaara knew it wasn't perfect. Perhaps he could never expect perfect to be within his grasp—not as a former Jinchuriki, not as Kazekage of Suna, not as a man who still had a murderous reputation across the ninja world—but this was as close to perfect as he could have. Maybe it was not really real. Maybe he would suffer the same pain he had before. Maybe Sakura would wake up one day and realize she did not want him anymore.

But the risk was worth taking. Because maybe it wasn't love…

Or maybe it was.

And if it was, maybe he would have the chance to learn more about her. Maybe her would have the chance to learn more from her. Maybe they would be able to continue sharing laughs and secrets together on the roof of the Kage tower. Maybe they would be able to lie together under the shine of the moon. Maybe they would be able to share their nights together hot and breathless under the same bed sheets.

Maybe he would no longer have nightmares.

Instead, maybe he would start having dreams again.

Dreams of Sakura gazing over at him from the pillow next to his. Dreams of little children with rose-colored hair and green eyes. Dreams of reaching an age he never expected to make it to, with one wrinkled hand intertwined with another, watching the Suna sunset from a balcony.

After a long time, the moon had finally risen over Suna and the cool blue light filtered through the small round windows. Gaara held tight to his Sakura, sighing softly into her hair while his old childhood friend shined down on them.

No, it wasn't perfect.

But maybe one day, it would be.

And they had all the time they needed to figure it out.

X X X

A One Month Bet: The End

Thank you so much for taking this journey with me. I might not have made it this far if it wasn't for the continued support and kind commentary that kept me going. I'm forever grateful for all of you who continued to support this story for so long.

I do apologize for the long wait. I have spent well over a decade working on this, so saying goodbye to these characters after so long was incredibly hard. I tried my best to give them the ending they deserved.

Humbly yours,

Olly BaaBaa-Chan