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

A One Month Bet

The sun rose proudly that day in Suna. The air was warm, the breeze was soft, and Sakura Haruno lay peacefully entangled within the sheets of her bed.

With a hangover.

"Errrm…Fuck."

The pink-haired kunoichi rolled slowly over, shielding her eyes from the brutal daylight now streaming through the window of her room. The air was too thick and her clothes felt tight and constricting, as though they were trying to strangle her from the middle down. She stumbled into the tiny bathroom without even bothering to turn on the lights and flipped the shower onto a low setting. A low grumble in the pit of her stomach made her grimace in discomfort.

"Shower first," she scratchily commanded to herself. The cool water would help to clear her head and rinse away the grimy feeling that was prickling all over her skin. Until then, she refused to look in a mirror or even attempt to find any food. Even if everyone in the Kage mansion had to witness her hangover firsthand, she could at least look a little presentable about it.

Sakura peeled off the too-tight clothing she'd mistakenly slept in. It seemed she'd fallen asleep in Temari's shirt and her skin-tight mission pants—not the most desirable sleepwear when stationed in Suna. They did not have the breathable ability of her pajamas, and as the morning heated up the moisture of her own perspiration had clung to her skin like a magnet. She stepped carefully into the shower, feeling the momentary shock of the cold water on her body.

Goosebumps dotted her skin all over, but the water was refreshing. Sakura sighed and leaned her back against the tile, allowing the droplets to dance over her front and on her face. She closed her eyes and tried to align the rhythm pounding in her head to the slap-slap-slap of the shower water.

Oh, what she wouldn't give to rewind the last twelve hours and erase all that had happened. This hangover might've have been less insurmountable were it not coupled with guilt and shame. The shower could wash away the grime, some food could alleviate the grumble in her stomach, and some medicine could ease the pain in her head—but nothing could make her forget what she'd done. This could be my last day here, she thought sadly, He'll probably send me straight back to Konoha.

He. Gaara. She swallowed thickly as a familiar sting seeped behind her eyelids. The memories were hazy, but still decipherable. She'd gone drinking with Temari and Kankuro, and they'd told her how he'd never been kissed. So she'd kissed him, and then what? He'd been angry—detached. He didn't even say anything her…

Yes, he did. He told me to call him Gaara.

Sakura remembered this detail suddenly, and she straightened herself to a stand. How confusing. Why would he make such a demand after what had happened between them? Sakura hugged herself to counter chills that had little to do with the cool water. The formality had been breached—by both parties.

Yes, she recounted, He called me by my name, too!

The recollection was nearly as startling as her first realization. But it still didn't make any sense. Her memories were still clouded. He was angry, wasn't he? He stood up. He wouldn't look at me.

Maybe it wasn't anger, Inner Sakura suggested, What if was just shock? Confusion?

Confusion? How could there have possibly been any confusion? She'd stated her objectives clearly last night…

Hadn't she?

Oh God. One of her hands slid up to cover her mouth. That was it. She hadn't told him—there was no way he could've known—she must've forgotten—

I didn't tell him it was a lesson!

Sakura suddenly felt very sick. She slipped slowly down to a sitting position in the shower and let the water rain over her. How could she have forgotten such a thing? She knew she'd said things that were related to a 'lesson', but without clarification of the situation, it probably just sounded like she was spouting some kind of inane babble. No doubt, to Gaara, it just seemed that she'd entered at some ungodly hour of the night, kissed him without any explanation, and then left an emotional wreck for absolutely no clear reason.

What have I done?

She sat still for a moment while the legion of chaotic thoughts tumbled over themselves in her aching head. She needed to fix this, clean up her mess. "I have to talk to him," she said to herself, but it did not provide her with any of the courage she was longing for. She washed and rinsed herself quickly, then turned off the shower.

There was no turning back—she had to do this. It was her own lack of accountability that had gotten her into this mess, and now she had to suffer the consequences. She garbed herself with a clean work-tunic and replaced all her kunai, shuriken, and bandages where they belonged. If this was going to be her final conversation with the Kazekage, then she was at least going to look professional.

When she was finally done dressing, Sakura at last glanced in the mirror. She grimaced. Her eyes were red and a bit swollen from her crying spell the night before, and they were rimmed with grey shadows. Her complexion was paler than normal, and the wet, pink locks dangling around her face looked like stringy entrails. She sighed and gave into her own vanity. A few dots of moisturizing oil around her eyes her eyes to diminish the redness and quick tousle of her hair with a towel was all she could manage. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Dread eveloped her. No more stalling. She strode determinedly down the corridor. She would have to tell Gaara straight, tell him the exact truth. It would be embarrassing, shameful, humiliating—but it was her duty. She decided to practice in her head to map out what she would say:

Gaara-san, I—

Sakura stopped. No. He wasn't Gaara. He was still the Kazekage. Despite what he may or may not have said the night before, she would not allow herself such endearments. He was her superior, and she was going to humble herself accordingly.

Kazekage-sama, I must request a moment of your time. I need to speak with you about last night…

She passed by the mansion's kitchen and caught a glimpse of a very ragged-looking Kankuro. His appearance bore the same tell-tale gruffness of a hangover that hers had, and he was sipping on a large mug of black coffee. He gave her an acknowledging nod which she did not return. Kankuro and Temari could not be fully blamed for what had happened, but they had played a part in convincing her. Until she got everything sorted and settled, she did not want to speak with either of them. This was her fault, and she wanted to deal with it herself.

Sakura kept moving forward until she reached the lobby area. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Only hours ago, she had stumbled into the darkness of this room with her two cohorts before continuing on alone to commit possibly one of the worst decisions of her career. Now the room was light and open again. It seemed so contradictory to the dark feelings of guilt inside her.

Mitaya, who was sitting dutifully at her desk, glanced up at Sakura's entrance and smiled. "Ah, good morning, Sakura-san," she called.

Sakura shifted her attention to the kind, old woman and gave a weak smile back. "Good morning, Mitaya."

"Oh, it's just a beautiful day out, isn't it? Especially after that terrible storm last night."

Sakura's smile faded. "There was a storm last night?" She hadn't even noticed.

"Oh yes, a most terrible sandstorm. They happen every so often, but this one was very close to the city. But it cleared up rather quickly this morning." Mitaya shifted some papers on her desk and then looked back up at Sakura. "Are you alright, dear?"

Sakura's smile was definitely gone now. This chit-chat was getting her nowhere fast. She needed to speak to Gaara quickly. She needed to get it over with. With a deep breath, she walked forward slowly. "Mitaya," she said faintly, "Could you please tell the Kazekage that I need to speak with him?"

The kindly woman tilted her head in concern. "I'm sorry, Sakura-san. The Kazekage is away from his office right now."

The blood in Sakura's cheeks drained and she glanced over to the closed wooden doors. "Away?" she asked quickly, "Where is he?"

"When I arrived this morning, it appeared he'd been out training. That's where he is now, I believe. Temari-san went with him, so that he would not be alone."

Sakura visibly slumped. How would she talk to him now? Would he be at the training fields? Could she speak to him there? How would she speak to him alone in a place like that? I need to resolve this as soon as possible.

She nodded and thanked Mitaya for her help, and then strode towards the outside. If she hurried, perhaps she could still catch him before he left. There was no telling where he would go afterwards or when he would return to the mansion. It was an illusion to believe that a Kage would remain in his or her office indefinitely. The fact that Gaara had been so tied down in his own was not altogether usual. Sakura knew firsthand that Tsunade made regular trips around the village. She often went to meetings with the village elders and made visits to the hospital. She was, after all, the greatest medic nin Konoha had ever seen, and so she would often check up on the well-being and necessities of the medics and patients there. Sakura did not know what type of errands a Kazekage would have to tend to, but there was no doubt in her mind that such errands did, in fact, exist.

Also, it seemed Temari would be present as well, and while Sakura had not planned on requesting aid from either Kankuro or his sister, the fact that she might vouch for Sakura was a little encouraging. Certainly with the both of them together, they could convince Gaara that the whole thing was a simple misunderstanding.

With this in mind, Sakura tried to retrace her steps from the day before to find the training grounds. When she arrived, however, she felt confused. It did not look as it had before, and it took a moment of consideration before Sakura realized what had happened. The sand dunes on the fields where taller and had shifted position. She could no longer distinguish the separate fields, for they all looked like a flowing, golden ocean of sand. It must've been the storm, she thought, it really was close to the city. So close, in fact, that it had buried the training grounds. There were no ninja scattered about at all; the grounds were deserted.

Then where is he? she wondered. Sakura wandered along aimlessly. If Gaara was not here, and he was not at the Kazekage tower, then she had no clue as to his whereabouts. She did not know the layout of Sunagakure well enough to simply go searching for him in random areas. I might as well just go back, she thought sourly. She hated the thought of letting this misunderstanding go without repair for too long. If she didn't find Gaara and explain to him the truth, then her mistake would be left to ferment in his mind, and he would send her back to Konoha for insubordination or some other such crime. Sakura was just sure of it; she could feel it in her gut.

Maybe it's better if you just don't talk to him, Inner Sakura offered. It's not like it was a bad kiss, right? What reason would he have to want you to leave? Maybe you should just continue on with your mission. Just pretend as though this never happened.

She frowned sadly. But… I don't want to pretend like it never happened…

She'd wanted that kiss. Badly. She'd been fantasizing about the handsome Kazekage since she'd first seen him in his office two weeks ago. He was an ass, yes, and there were times when Inner Sakura wanted to strangle him, but he was inexplicably alluring. If she had truly not wanted to kiss him, then her moral compass would have steered her away from the very idea. On a subconscious level, she'd cared more for that one moment of physical contact than she had about anything else: her village, her mission, her devotion to her students. Even her stubborn dedication to the bet they'd made.

That was the pinpoint of the shame she now felt. How could she have been so weak as to give in to a small, guilty pleasure like that with so much at stake? And the worst part was: she still didn't regret the kiss itself. She couldn't blame it on the alcohol—Drinking had only given her the confidence to go through with it. And she already knew she couldn't blame it on Temari or Kankuro either. Where would she be if she hadn't given in to their requests?

Exactly where she had been before.

"Hey! Watch out!"

Sakura turned quickly. The voice was barely audible on the wind—

The wind.

She hadn't even noticed how quickly it had picked up. She hurriedly turned and raced back up a sand dune towards the edge of the city. She pulled the edge of her tunic up over her nose and mouth and squinted into the distance. There was a small group of people nearly three fields down. She was amazed that she could hear a warning from so far away. There no more than maybe ten people, but one was set apart from the others. He stood ahead of the rest of them with his arms outstretched and his distinctive, triangular hat angled downwards. Sakura gasped.

Gaara!

She squatted at the top of the dune and watched him. The wind began to rip through the alleyways behind her, and she shielded her eyes with her hand. Sand began to collect in the gusts. Sakura watched in awe as the wind howled and entire dunes began to topple. A great wall of sand was forming, growing, moving outward, pushing away from the city. The sand in the fields was depleting, becoming steadily shallower as the wall swept through them. It drove onward, stretching higher and wider. The wind was pushing with near brutal force, and Sakura had to extend her legs into the slowly sinking dune to stop herself from skidding downwards. Just as the force of the wind began to bring tears to her eyes, it slowed to a hush. The wall, now hundreds of yards from the grounds, collapsed into a massive, but stationary cloud. Sakura coughed and tried to stand, but the dune was now too weak below her. She slipped back into a sitting position and remained there, trying to shake off the sand all over her.

"Sakura! Are you alright?" a voice called. Sakura glanced over to see Temari running towards her. She held up a hand, but her throat suddenly felt parched, and she coughed instead of speaking. The sand-kunoichi finally reached her, and she helped pull her up and out of the sand. "Here, take it."

Sakura took the canister Temari offered her and drank a large, grateful swig to wash the sand out of her throat. She coughed again and swallowed. "Thanks."

Temari removed the cloth mask that had previously covered her own face. She nodded caringly, but Sakura could tell that she, too, had a sour mood left over from their binge last night. From what Mitaya had said, it seemed like her pigtailed-friend had been up and about for many more hours than she had, and Temari's exhaustion was all too apparent on her tired features and the annoyance in her voice. "What are you doing out here?" she asked sternly.

Sakura grunted and a stood up straight to face her friend. "I came," she said scratchily, "To talk to the Kazekage."

Temari's eyes widened and she bit her lip. "He's busy," she said quickly, "There was a storm last night, so he came to clear out the training grounds."

Yes, the storm, Sakura thought. Though she felt like she'd seen a storm just now. Gaara had just created one, it seemed, to counter the one from last night. It was so very odd. She could remember no one mentioning an oncoming storm yesterday. She couldn't even remember a particularly strong breeze blowing by, and they'd been out drinking pretty late. These thoughts swirled in her mind as she gazed out over the sand cloud that had begun to settle. Mitaya had mentioned that Gaara was out training. Could it be, if he was powerful enough to reverse a storm, that Gaara could've been the one to create the first one?

Temari's critical tone drew Sakura from her musings as she said, "No one was supposed to be out here. It was too dangerous."

Sakura felt a bit taken aback by Temari's sudden harsh attitude, so she tried to lighten the mood herself. "I'm a tough girl," she said with a smirk. She let her gaze wander over the now again visible training grounds and added, "He did that, huh? It was amazing."

Temari finally cracked a small grin and folded her arms, "Tch, yeah. Well, it's not like he was named Kazekage for nothing."

Sakura thought about that for a while. It was very true. Gaara was extremely powerful, both physically and mentally. He'd proven that several times over. He was one of the most powerful Shinobi she had ever met, and was on par with Naruto in the sense that they'd both had to battle against inner demons all their lives. True, the Shukaku that had been trapped inside Gaara was now relinquished, but she knew he must've struggled to recreate himself as a human being. Very few people got a second chance at life, and Gaara had not wasted his. To have accomplished so much, in so little time, with so much pain and shame hanging over his head was an admirable feat in and of itself.

Sakura sighed and turned to look back at Temari, but someone else caught her eye. There he was, striding proudly in their direction: Subaku no Gaara. Sakura stilled. Dread began churning in her stomach. She tried to lock gaze with Temari, but it felt almost as if the woman was ignoring her silent pleas for help. All too quickly, Sakura felt like running away. She wasn't prepared. She'd never finished practicing what she wanted to say to him. Oh no! What do I do?

Gaara drew ever closer, and still Sakura could find nothing to say. Finally, when he was only steps from them, Temari turned and said, "She fine. The dune didn't even collapse." Gaara didn't look moved in the slightest. He only nodded to his sister, the tip of his hat dipping and concealing his face from them for a split-second. Sakura swallowed and chewed on her bottom lip.

"Temari, you may go announce that the training grounds are open again," he ordered softly. Sakura nearly crumpled into the sand again. No, no, no! She'd thought that she could handle talking to him alone, but now she felt as though she didn't want Temari to leave. But the sand kunoichi bowed to her brother and did not even look back at Sakura. She was in mission-mode, and orders came before helping her new friend out of a painfully awkward situation.

Sakura watched in dismay as her only lifeline disappeared back into the walls of the city. She was now alone with him. Alone with Gaara. She took a deep breath to steady the fluttery unease in her stomach. Now is the time, she commanded herself, Clean up this mess before he ships your butt back to the forest!

She drew her gaze away from the space that Temari had once occupied and turned her attention on Gaara. He was gazing at her expectantly with his dark ringed eyes. Suddenly his head dipped again, and one of his hands lifted. He removed his Kazekage hat and held it instead at his side. It was such a simple movement, but suddenly Sakura was speechless. Since she'd arrived in Suna, she had always seen him in his dimly-lit office. Even during the day, the lighting in that small room did not do him justice. Now, in the natural daylight of the outside, Sakura could find no words to describe him. His hair was a shade of red she'd never seen on a human before, exotic enough to be distinguishable but dark enough that it was unmistakably natural. The dark rings around his eyes looked starker than normal, and the symbol on his forehead shown brightly against the gentle bronze hint on his skin. She could not draw her gaze away from those beautiful emerald orbs.

Definitely did not regret that kiss.

"Yes?"

Oh God, his voice. Why did it sound so much deeper and more masculine outside? Was it the way it carried on the air? She swallowed again and struggled for words. She couldn't just sit there and stare at him like a love-struck teenager.

Why not? Inner Sakura whined.

Sakura shook her head to relieve herself of such thoughts. She had to focus. She had to tell him about the kiss…

She lowered her gaze respectfully. "Kazekage-sama—" she began.

"I believe I told you to call me Gaara."

Her head snapped back up and she gaped him. So it was true! He really had meant it when he told to call him by his first name. Suddenly this conversation felt much more difficult for Sakura. If he was still mad at her, would he really be comfortable with such a break in formality? Her head swam with confusion.

"Um, right," She finally managed with great effort, "I forgot. Gaara-san, I—"

"Just Gaara. No 'san' necessary."

Whoa, now he was really making it informal. Sakura just couldn't understand why he was suddenly so adamant about the way she addressed him. People called him by formal titles all the time. It was polite and, well, expected of any villager to refer to their Kage by the respectful designation. Sakura was sure that even Temari and Kankuro called him "Kazekage-sama" on occasion, and yet here he was, telling her, the foreign jonin kunoichi from Konoha, to address him simply by his first name.

"Gaara," she said slowly, as though testing how it sounded in her mouth. He made no further acknowledgment except to maintain his scorching gaze on her. Sakura clicked her jaw. Fine. If that was what he wanted, then so be it. She still had important business to discuss, and he was going to damn well listen to her argument after putting her through so much stress!

"Gaara," she said again, this time more assuredly, "I need to speak with you about something important."

Silence.

Sakura had half-expected him to cut her off or say that he had more important things to attend to, but he did neither. He still stood there, waiting patiently, with the soft remnants of a breeze whispering through his disheveled locks.

"About last night," she continued.

At long last: movement. He tilted his head slightly to the right, barely enough to even be noticeable. Sakura exhaled sharply. It should not have been anatomically possible for a man to look that much more attractive because of a simple shift in head position!

She scrunched her eyes to better her focus. Stop it! Be professional!

Sakura straightened her back and stood as tall as she possibly could. Gaara still towered over her, standing barely a foot or two away. She concluded that looking at his face was too distracting, and instead focused her attention on a buckle on the chest of his uniform. Just talk to the buckle.

"Gaara, I need to speak with you about the—" She gulped. "Kiss."

There. She'd done it. She'd finally addressed the issue. Now all that was left was to explain that it had been nothing personal; it was just a lesson. Simple enough—right?

Gaara remained silent, and it took nearly all of Sakura's self-discipline to gaze at that metal buckle. She didn't think she could handle seeing the expression on his face. Was he angry? Annoyed? Appalled? Did he simply just not care at all? Just keep going, her mind ordered, Leave no stone unturned. Be completely clear with him, so that there is no more confusion.

"It was entirely inappropriate, and I understand that," she continued, "But I want you to know that it wasn't anything…personal. It was just meant to be a… a lesson."

Sakura exhaled. She probably sounded like such an idiot. What woman in her right mind would land herself in a situation like this? Why couldn't she have just remembered to tell him last night? Now the idea of a 'kissing lesson' just sounded like a lame cover-up story, and perhaps even an insult to his manhood. She probably should've just pretended like she'd been too drunk to remember anything. Then she could've simply avoided the shame of confessing to her own idiocy.

Suddenly her view of the buckle was obscured as Gaara crossed his arms over his chest. Sakura quickly glanced up. The man in front of her still had his head tilted slightly. His rugged features were expressionless, save for the slight arch in one of his non-existent eyebrows. "A lesson," he echoed slowly. "Yes. And?"

Sakura blinked and her mouth fell open. "What?"

"What is it that you need to say about the lesson?"

Sakura's eyes expanded until they felt as though they would pop out of her head. Heat flushed her cheeks. "You knew it was a lesson?"

Gaara's raised eyebrow relaxed slowly and his mouth formed a thin line. "You told me it was so."

Sakura's mind was immediately in a frenzy. I told him? When did I tell him? Inner Sakura tore through every memory she possessed of the night before, but she still found nothing. How did Gaara know?

"Sakura, my time is short." Gaara replaced his hat and dipped politely to her. "Now is not the time to discuss this."

Sakura was so frazzled that she did not even bow back. As he started moving away from her, she tramped along behind him with big, clumsy steps in the weak sand. "Hey, wait!" she called.

He stilled, but did not turn back to her. "I understand this is your day off, but unfortunately I am not privileged with the same liberty." Sakura chewed her lip guiltily, feeling like she had once again overstepped her place. "Why not use this time to plan next week's instruction for the medic team?" he inquired absently. "I intend to resume regular monitor updates on their progress." And with that, he began walking again. Sakura did not try to follow him, however. She stood inert, staring at the back of his head until he disappeared back within the city walls.

What. The. Hell?

Sakura clenched her fists and aimed a sharp kick into sand beneath her. "Argh! I am such an idiot!" she growled. How could she not have known? Why couldn't she remember telling him that kiss wasn't real? Of all the details she remembered of that moment alone with him—the way she'd wanted to stare at his handsomeness forever, the way she'd deliberated on what type of kiss to give him, they way she'd gotten jealous at the very thought of him kissing another woman—why could she not remember actually telling him the pivotal detail of the situation? She did recall saying something about remaining calm and confident, for future reference. But never once did the term "lesson" cross her lips—

Or so she thought…?

She ran her fingers through her petal-pink hair. It just didn't seem fair that Gaara was completely unfazed by something that unnerved her so much. He didn't act as though he cared at all about what had passed between them. Not bothered in the slightest that she was a foreign kunoichi only in Suna on business, nor that she'd bypassed their standard political affiliation. He didn't even seem affected by that fact that that kiss was the due result of a kissing lesson. Wouldn't most men's pride be affected by such a proposition?

Sakura grit her teeth and stared out over the training fields again. There were a few people beginning to arrive in small, scattered groups: genin training with their sensei's, chunin and jonin pairing up to spar. She rested her hands on her hips and thought once more about Gaara's remarkable feat only moments ago. He really is powerful, she thought admirably. But why does he have to be so confusing?

Thank you for your time. Reviews are very appreciated.

-Olly BaaBaa-Chan